In the Breeze of a Familiar Dream
by TypicalTypo19
Summary: As time marches on and they all get older, Karen, Jack, Will, and Grace are faced with the harsh reality that all good things must come to an end.
1. In the Mornings

Karen yawned as she stretched her arms above her head, her silk bathrobe falling loosely into place around her body. She grimaced at the pain in her elbows as they bent back down next to her body, the daily annoyance of her arthritis making itself a more dominant present in recent weeks. Her feathery slippers whooshed against the hardwood floor as she walked, slower now than in earlier years, to the bedroom down the hall from hers.

She knocked lightly on the door, the force of her fist pushing it open a few inches.

"Jack?" she asked softly, peaking her head in. Jack's sleeping form grunted, turned over. Karen treaded lightly over to the opposite of the bed, pulled up the covers, and slipped underneath them.

"Morning, Poodle," she whispered into his ear, wrapping one arm around his body and huddling up close to his back. He felt frail in her arms. Jack yawned and she felt him extend an arm to the bedside table, pulling his glasses off of it and settling the frames onto his care-worn face.

"Morning, Kare," he responded, turning over to look at her. He mimicked her posture by pressing the palm of his hand onto her lower back and pulling her close to him.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked sweetly, closing her eyes as she laid her head on his chest. The scent of bacon and syrup was wafting up from downstairs.

"Mmhmm," he responded, kissing her forehead. She sighed, snuggled in further to his arms.

"We should get up, today's a big day," Karen said, after a minute. She craned her neck to look up at him. When he smiled down back at her, his dimples making an appearance amidst the fine lines around his mouth, she kissed his lips.

"Karen!" he whined, his objection coming as he pulled his face away from hers. "Morning breath!" Disentangling himself from her arms, he raised himself to a seated position on the edge of the bed, fishing for his slippers with his feet. "At least let me brush my teeth."

"Sorry," she laughed, rolling out of the bed. As she watched him slowly stand from the bed before shaking out his limbs and returning to his sprightly way of moving, she walked back to the doorway, leaned against its frame. "Go get cleaned up then come get some breakfast," she instructed.

Jack turned towards her, nodded as he tied his bathrobe.

"What time are we supposed to be at the church?" he asked.

"Ten-thirty," she replied. "We're supposed to meet Will and Vince in the parking lot to help them carry in the flowers."

"Ok," he nodded, opening his large closet and pulling out a dark blue garment bag. Karen turned slowly and exited the room, leaving Jack alone as he fingered the tuxedo inside the bag. "Hope this still fits…" he mumbled, zipping the bag back up and leaving it hanging next to the bed to go take a shower.

An hour later, Jack settled in to his chair at the head of the dining room table, unfolding his napkin and placing it on his lap as Rosario placed a plate full of food in front of him.

"Thanks, Rosie," he told her, giving her a smile. As she left the room, Karen entered, looking so ravishing that Jack caught his breath.

"Well, well," he grinned at her, taking in her red, silk dress and the chandelier diamonds around her neck, "you sure do clean up nice."

Karen blushed, shaking her head. It was true that of the four of them, she had aged the best, despite being the oldest. Of course her trips to the plastic surgeon aided in this, but it was also undeniable that she just had good genes. The dress she was wearing was, in all honesty, probably about fifteen years too young-looking for her to be wearing, but she pulled it off. Her breasts were still perky, her skin, for the most part, still smooth and taut. Whatever age was doing to her body, Karen felt the effects inwardly more than anyone could see them outwardly.

"Stop it," she teased, running a hand through her hair. "You look fabulous too, Poodle!"

Jack mimed fluffing his hair before turning back to the food in front of him. As Karen sat next to him, she couldn't help but notice that his color seemed a little off. Maybe it was just the lighting in the dim dining room, she thought.

They made small talk as they ate, and before they knew it, Rosie was telling them that the limo was out front to take them to Ben and Laila's wedding.

"Jack, come here," Karen requested before they headed downstairs. He stood and leaned down in front of her as she tied his bowtie. He rolled his eyes as he waited patiently for her to take over, her maternal instincts always in full swing when it came to taking care of him.

"There," she announced, securing the knot of the tie tightly. She smiled up at him.

"Thanks, Mom," he said sarcastically. She slapped his arm playfully, not showing him the pain on her face as she turned her back to him. She knew he was only joking, of course, but the truth was she did feel the need to take care of Jack. She had never had children of her own, despite how badly she had wanted them, and she could tell that as he got older, things got more difficult for him. She cared so much about him that she just wanted to do whatever she could to make his life as easy as possible.

As they stepped into the elevator to go down to the limo, Jack stepped behind Karen and placed his hands on her shoulders, massaging them gently.

"You shouldn't worry about me so much," he told her.

"I know, Jackie," she sighed. She didn't know how to put into words what she was feeling. They had been living together for so long, their bond was special. They might as well had been married, minus sex. Even that wasn't out of the question - Karen and Jack often forayed into the sexual realm for physical pleasure, and sometimes just for fun. In fact, if it weren't for the fact that Jack was gay, they probably would've been married by now.

Karen's silence did not go unnoticed by Jack, who was fully aware that Karen loved him in a way he could never love her, so he broke the tension.

"I love ya, Karebear," he told her, leaning down to kiss her cheek from behind. The elevator doors dinged open, and the pair strode towards the waiting limousine, hand in hand.


	2. Someone Old, Someone New

As the limo rolled to a stop in front of the church, Jack didn't even have time to reach the handle of the door before it was thrown open from the outside. Will leaned down and took Jack's hand, firmly grasping it as Jack stood from the car.

"Hey guys!" Will greeted enthusiastically, as he pulled Jack into a tight hug. Jack kissed his cheek.

"Hi, Will," Karen smiled as he helped her out of the limo next. He pecked her on the lips.

"Karen, looking gorgeous as always," he told her, taking a step back to examine her outfit. "How _do_ you look so good?"

"This is just a little Noxzema and the love of a good man, honey," she told him, wrapping her arm around Jack's. Will smiled at the two best friends as they shared a content and happy look. "Where's Vince?"

"Oh he's pulling the car around," Will told them, leading them up the steps of the large church. "We've got all the corsages and Laila's bouquet in the trunk, so we just need to transfer them inside."

"How's Grace holding up?" Jack asked Will, as they stepped into the lobby of the old basilica.

"She's good, she's a little emotional, but good," Will told them. They nodded. "You know, her only daughter and all…"

"Well, she'll be well taken care of by your boy," Jack reassured, patting Will on the arm. He beamed.

"I just can't believe it…" he mumbled, obviously overjoyed.

"I'm so glad they decided to get married in the city," Karen added. "It seems like it's been ages since the six of us were all together."

It was true - ever since Will and Grace had had their children and Karen had moved in with Jack, The group hadn't seen as much of each other. Now that the kids were all out of the house it afforded more time for socializing, but as we age, taking the time out to do such things becomes less of a priority. And today, as excited as Will and Grace were about their children's marriage, Jack and Karen were equally as excited to have such a momentous reason to spend time with all of their closest friends.

Just then, a door behind them burst open, causing them all to turn. Grace came through it, her faded red hair pinned back elegantly, highlighting her prominent cheekbones. She must have heard their voices through the crack in the door, as she came out with her arms outstretched to Jack and Karen. Karen made it to Grace first, throwing her arms around her and kissing her cheek as Grace laughed.

"Hi, honey," Karen chirped.

"Hey, Kare," Grace replied, smiling at Jack over Karen's shoulder.

"Gracie," Jack greeted her, as she released Karen and embraced him instead.

"Jack, you look so handsome!" she proclaimed. She turned back towards the three of them. "It's so good to see you guys." Karen nodded in enthusiastic agreement.

"Where's the blushing bride?" she asked.

Grace threw her head to the right, towards the door she had just come out of.

"She's just getting into her dress," she told them, grabbing Karen's hand and leading her towards the door. "Can you guys manage without Kare? Laila wanted to see her."

"Absolutely," Will responded, just as Vince's car became visible through the glass double doors. He and Jack turned their backs on the women, rushing out to help him with the flowers. Karen frowned as she watched Jack struggle to keep up with Will, his movements forced and strained-looking. Grace noticed it, too, and put her arm around Karen's shoulder.

"We're all getting older," she stated, reading the worry on Karen's face. Karen sighed and forced a smile as they turned and went through the wooden door to where the bride was waiting.

"Karen!" Laila nearly shouted as she spotted Karen entering the room behind her mother.

"Hi, babe," Karen greeted her as Laila kissed her cheek lightly and took Karen's hands in her own. "Look at you! You look absolutely stunning." Karen released one of Laila's hands and used the other to spin her around, examining her wedding dress. Grace watched them silently from the corner, glad that Karen could be part of this day since she would never had a daughter of her own to marry off.

"You like it?" Laila asked, obviously pleased by Karen's compliment.

"Oh honey, I _love _it!" Karen reiterated. "Well I haven't seen such a beautiful bride since…well, since your mother married your father."

Laila smiled and turned back to the mirror.

"Thanks, Kare," she said, studying her reflection. "Hey how come I've never seen any of _your _wedding pictures? You must've been stunning."

"She was," Grace interjected.

"Oh, honey, I've got so many wedding pictures I don't even know where to put them all…I think they're stuffed in a drawer somewhere in the manse," Karen explained, taking a seat next to Grace as Laila continued to check herself out.

"God, Karen, did that ever freak you out? You know, marrying guy after guy?" Laila asked. Her young innocence and lack of tact made Karen laugh out loud.

"Probably," she answered, "on some level. My last marriage ended so long ago I don't even really remember the other ones."

"I hope Ben's the one. The _only_ one," Laila muttered. Karen and Grace exchanged a knowing look.

"I'm sure he is, honey," Karen reassured her. "But all that really matters, in the end, is that you're happy, no matter who it is you're with."

"Are you happy?" Grace asked softly, turning her body towards Karen. Grace knew that Karen had problems in the past dealing with being single. And while she knew how special of a bond she and Jack had, nothing is ever the same as having a man that is fully committed to you. What she didn't realize was just how committed to Karen Jack was.

Karen closed her eyes and thought a minute before answering. She hadn't been married in more than 20 years, and since then had been living with a gay guy. With Jack. Her Jack.

"Very."


	3. The Beginning of the End

**2004**

Their bodies loudly rammed into the decorative table next to them as their tongues fought, Jack's arms squeezed tightly around Karen's waist and her hands ran through his dark hair. They struggled to control their bodies in this manner for a minute or two before Karen pulled back from Jack, putting an abrupt end to their spontaneous make out session.

"Honey, what the hell was that?" she asked him. His breathing heavy, he stared back at her, himself unsure of what had just happened. She raised her eyebrows at him in her impatience for an answer. Karen and Jack had kissed before, but _never_ like that. Even during goofy times like when she would let Jack French kiss her in the Barney's elevator, he had always been insistent on keeping their physical contact minimal, as he was simply not turned on by her womanly body.

But Jack was fully cognizant of the fact that Karen was a stunningly attractive woman, and he enjoyed fondling her breasts and tasting the sweetness of her YSL lipstick on his lips. But this time was…different. A purely sexual desire had overcome them both, an undeniable electricity flowing through their bodies.

Before Jack could provide any kind of answer to Karen, the door behind them burst open and Will had stormed out of it, Grace trailing behind him while pulling on her white coat over her wedding dress. Karen and Jack watched them go, both of their faces displaying their shock from everything that had just happened. When Will and Grace had turned out of the hallway and they were once again alone, Jack took Karen's hand and pulled her into the room they had just come out of.

Leo was there, and smiled at them before taking his leave of the room. When he did, Jack shut the door, and like magnets, he and Karen were once again in each other's arms. His fingertips toyed with the skin of her bare shoulders, pushed her mink stole to the floor. Her nails clawed through his tuxedo as she grasped his back, throwing her head back as he kissed and licked her neck.

She hurriedly helped him out of his tuxedo jacket, unbuttoned his shirt. He pushed them to the ground and ran his hand up Karen's leg, pushing up the fabric of her long black dress as he did so. The room was completely silent except for their pants and moans as they caressed and kissed and bit and licked every inch of each other's bare skin. Karen's foot had been teasing Jack's cock through his unbuttoned pants, and as he exercised a delightful torture on her ear with his tongue, she used her foot to push his pants down all the way.

"Karen," he sighed her name as she ran her hands over his firm chest, working on a hickey near his right collar bone.

"Oh Jack," she moaned in response, moving her lips up the side of his jaw to meet his lips once again. Their movements were fast and lustful, leaving neither of them any time to think about what they were doing or what it meant.

"Karen," Jack repeated as she broke their kiss to look into his eyes.

"I want you inside of me," she requested quietly, once again rubbing her stocking foot up and down the length of his erect shaft. She was fully prepared for him to take her, something she had been dreaming of for years. Suddenly and unexpectedly, it seemed as though her most secret fantasy was about to come true.

Jack remained silent as she straddled him, pulling her dress up around her waist to allow him access to her. His expression was blank despite the hormones that were still raging strongly within him. Karen's finger's encircled his hard on. He shivered; this was the first time her delicate hands had ever made skin-to-skin contact with his penis. Karen bit her lip and looked down at him as she slowly pulled it out of his boxers.

"Jack," she whispered, leaning down towards his face, his cock still in her hand, "I love you."

The kiss she planted on his lips was quickly ended, as Jack, shock written all over his face, pulled himself from Karen's grasp and pushed her off of him. Her mouth fell open in confusion as she hit the floor, Jack rolling himself over and standing quickly, tucking his boxers back into his pants.

"Jack?" she questioned, staring up at him from the floor, looking disheveled and lost.

"Karen, I-I can't have sex with you," he told her, rubbing his face as he walked towards the window on the opposite wall.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her tone icy, "Because you seemed pretty ready to just a second ago." She pushed herself to a standing position and smoothed her dress back down over her legs. "I don't understand…didn't you hear what I said?"

Jack didn't look at her, but stared straight ahead out of the window, his arms crossed in front of him. He was silent.

"Jack, didn't you hear me?" she pushed again, stepping closer to him. "I said I love you." She placed a hand on his arm.

"Yes, I heard you," he snapped, shrugging off her touch. She retracted her hand instantly, as though she had just touched a hot stove.

"W-Well…doesn't that mean anything to you?" her voice was quiet now.

"I'm gay."

"I know but…but that isn't always absolute…come on, Jack, you have to realize that we have something really special."

"Karen I don't love you."

He met her eyes as he said the words, almost as if challenging her to refute him. Her breath hitched her in her throat, she looked away, embarrassed. Jack saw her hurt, and immediately regretted speaking to her so harshly. He stepped closer to her, took her small hand in his, and kissed it. She looked up at him, her eyebrows drawn in confusion.

"And you don't love me, either," he continued. "You're just upset right now about Stan cheating…but it's _him_ you love, remember?" He ran a hand through her short hair as her expression softened. "It always has been him."

The flush slowly drained from Karen's cheeks as she stared at him in silence. Maybe he was right, maybe she was just so vulnerable right now, during her impending divorce from Stanley, that she had allowed herself to become confused about her feelings for Jack. She shook her head, laughed once.

"You're right, Jack," she told him. She matched his smile. "You're right." She pulled him into a hug. "I'm sorry…I just got a little carried away."

Jack rested his head on Karen's shoulder as she rubbed little circles around his back.

"It's ok, Kare," he told her. "I did too- I don't know what came over me. It won't happen again."

Karen sighed in relief that their weirdness had passed. Still, she was slightly disappointed by his last sentiment. She may have been mixing up her lust for Jack with love, but she still had a burning physical desire for him that could not be ignored.

There was a knock at the door, quickly followed by Larry's voice.

"Hey are you guys in there? Grace and Will are back, we're going to start the ceremony now."

Karen helped Jack retie his bowtie and handed him his tuxedo jacket. She tied her stole back around her shoulders, and cast a last glance at Jack before heading out the door.


	4. What Change Looks Like

Karen watched, lost in the sweetness of the moment, as Ben and Laila shared their first dance as husband and wife. Soon, Will and Grace joined them on the dance floor, looking a lot like Karen imagined Ben and Laila would in thirty years.

The soft yellow glow of the candle-lit room comforted Karen as she sat alone at the round table. Absentmindedly, she dipped her finger in the water of the floating candle centerpiece, drawing little circles with her nail. Her body was tired from being out so long without a rest; her feet ached in her stilettos. She yawned, wondering when things had gotten like this. Where had her life gone? How did twenty years fly by so quickly? When did she get so old?

Ben pressed his lips to Laila's ear, whispering something that caused her to look up and kiss him. Karen smiled, remembering the first time she had held Laila as a baby, the first time toddler Ben had kissed her cheek. She looked over at Grace and Will, remembered how she had felt after coming home from spending her first evening out with them - like she had truly found people she belonged with. She sighed. This was her family.

And then, there was Jack. She felt his hand on hers, closed her eyes as his fingers laced with hers.

"May I have this dance?"

She nodded, stood slowly as he held her waist.

"Hang on, honey," she requested as she reached one hand down to pull off her shoes. "Much better."

With a smile, he led her to the dance floor. All of the other guests in the reception hall seemed to fade into the background as he twirled and dipped her - as she came alive. For a few minutes, they were 35 again.

A slow song came on and Jack pulled her body towards his. She ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, caressed his check with her palm. A smile lit up his eyes as he pressed his forehead to hers, their bodies swaying lazily to the slow rhythm of the bass.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After the hugs and kisses, the promises to call and the "thank yous," after the flashing lights of the party and the bubbles blown at the new couple had faded away behind them, there was just Jack and Karen. He threw his arm around her in the back of the limo as she laid her heavy head on his shoulder.

"That was fun," Jack mused.

"Mmhmm," Karen agreed. "It was nice to get out of the house for awhile."

"We should stuff like that more often."

"Well, do you know many other people getting married anytime soon?"

"No, I just mean going out into the world, doing things. Living a little."

"Ok," Karen conceded with a yawn. "We can start on that tomorrow."

They were silent the rest of the way back to their building. The penthouse they shared, which had been purchased with the money Beverly Leslie had left to Jack, was waiting for them quietly when they pushed through the front door. Rosario's snores echoed from her room down the hall as they tiptoed up the stairs.

"Hey, Kare?"

"Yeah, Poodle?"

"Sleep in my bed with me tonight?"

"Sure, honey."

At the top of the stairs they split; Karen turning left to go change into her nightclothes, Jack heading right to his bedroom. He pushed the door closed behind him, pulled his jacket off and draped it across the back of the arm chair next to the door. In a sleepy haze he kicked off his shoes, began to undo his bowtie. Suddenly, the room was spinning and he struggled to find a bedpost to lean on. When his hand closed around it, he shut his eyes tight, waiting for the spell to pass.

When the ringing in his ears finally subsided, he opened his eyes again. Everything was back to normal. A sigh of relief escaped his mouth.

"Jack?" Karen's soft voice behind him startled him, and he turned quickly to face her. "Is everything OK?"

Her frown lines were etched particularly deep, the corners of her delicate mouth downturned in worry. How long had she been standing there?

"Oh yeah, I'm fine," he lied, "just tired. You changed fast."

She shrugged and watched him suspiciously as she crawled under the covers of his bed, waiting for him to finish getting ready.

"Vince looked good tonight," Jack called through the open door to his bathroom.

"Yeah, he did," Karen agreed. Her response was less than enthusiastic, her mind still running through the possible causes for Jack's moment of weakness she had just witnessed.

"Will told me he's thinking of retiring soon," Jack told her. She heard the faucet turn on.

"Who? Will or Vince?"

Jack poked his head out of the doorway, his toothbrush jammed crooked into his mouth.

"Will," he responded. "Wants to sell the practice."

"Wow," Karen answered. Her mind flashed to Will's law office, where she had spent countless lunch hours with him, and occasionally Stanley. Their friendship had formed in that office, so many years ago, and now he was going to sell it. She didn't know what she was going to do when Grace decided to retire; Karen still liked to stop by the office every once in awhile, although she herself had officially retired as Grace's assistant nearly three years ago. But that office was like her second home. She couldn't imagine it ever belonging to anyone else.

"You look tired, Kare," Jack observed as he reappeared in the doorway, this time sans toothbrush.

"I am tired," she sighed, as he pulled up the blankets on his side of the bed and slid in. "I think the years are finally catching up with me, Jack." She forced a small smile, but he saw the sadness in her eyes.

"Tomorrow," he told her, pulling his glasses from his face and folding them neatly on the nightstand next to him. "Tomorrow we're going to start living again. Enough of this being old stuff." He reached a shaky hand out to flip off the lamp next to him, leaving them in darkness. Karen flipped over, pushed her back into his stomach, allowing him to drape his arm over her waist as he kissed her hair. "We've still got so much to do."


	5. The Hospital Show

**2006**

Karen hated the smell of hospitals. She hated the stench of the first hospital she and her mom had pulled a job in when she was 15; she hated the stink of the waiting room of the one where Stan had been taken when she thought he was having a heart attack; she couldn't remember much about the hospital her father had died in when she was 7, but she very distinctly remembered the way she could almost taste death itself in her mouth. And she certainly hated the odor of the latex gloves and cleaning products that filled the hallways of this one.

Her heels clacked on the tile, every fourth square blue, and every fifth pink. The helium balloon she carried with her bounced recklessly against the low ceiling, the brown teddy bear it was attached to shaking slightly in her trembling hands. Jack was walking so closely behind her that she could feel his excited breath on her neck. When they got to the wide white door, labeled Room 402, he put his hand on the small of her back as her muscles tensed.

She felt herself being ushered inside by him, the door opening up to reveal a perfectly square room, slightly larger than she expected. And there was Grace, her sweaty hair matted to her forehead, the white sheets of the hospital bed she lay in crumpled around her. Leo was standing in the corner, talking with a nurse. A newborn's cry pierced through the low murmurs of the room, and it was then that Karen's eyes came to rest on the tiny pink bundle in Grace's arms.

Jack reached Grace first, a spring in his step like that of a teenage boy going to drive their new car for the first time. Or, in his case, going backstage to meet Liza Minnelli for the first time. Karen followed Jack's lead, setting her gift on the table next to Grace and pulling up a chair next to her head to get a better look at the new baby. Before she really could, however, Jack had pulled her from Grace's arms. Karen took the opportunity to lean down and hug her friend, whose wide smile was a clear indication of the joy she was feeling. Suddenly, Karen was struck with the significance of this moment and her extreme honor to be a part of it.

"Do you want to hold her?"

Before she could answer, Jack was thrusting Laila into Karen's arms. As she accepted the baby, Karen looked at Grace nervously. She hadn't spent much time with infants, didn't really know what to do. Grace gave her a reassuring smile, and Karen swallowed.

As soon as she looked down at the baby, all of her apprehensions evaporated. Her big brown eyes searched Karen's own, and Karen let out an unexpected giggle as Laila squirmed slightly in her arms. The heat of her little body radiated against Karen's arms. She didn't know babies were so warm, or so cuddly. Before she knew it, Karen was leaned back comfortably in her folding chair, rocking the baby as she cooed up at her. This was pure heaven.

While Karen reveled in her time with her new goddaughter, Leo pulled up a chair next to Jack.

"I tried calling Will…" he informed them. Grace's face suddenly fell, and she looked at Jack expectantly.

"Yeah," he breathed quietly. "He's not coming, guys. Sorry."

Grace looked away, tears forming in her eyes. Karen frowned apologetically at Leo. They all knew how much Grace had wanted Will there, but he still hadn't forgiven her for abandoning him to get back together with Leo.

Karen and Jack were in a difficult position with this particular rift between their two best friends. Both knew that Will was being extremely selfish by not making himself available to Grace during the end of her pregnancy, and especially now, by not even showing up for the birth of her first child. But they also knew how happy and excited he was to be able to be there for her and the baby, even to act as its father although he was not. They had sat up with him for hours every night for a week while he cried to them, sharing his pain at what he viewed as her betrayal. And this, too, they completely understood. When Karen got the call from Leo that Grace had gone into labor, she had called Will, but only once. She wanted to give him the chance to be there, but didn't want to press the issue once he had made up his mind. She and Jack had decided that the best they could do was be there for Grace, and try to leave Will out of it.

But all thoughts of Will quickly vanished as Karen passed Laila back to Grace, and their lighthearted mood was revived. Jack and Karen didn't stay for very much longer, it was late, and Grace was exhausted. Laila needed to be fed, and they wanted to give the new family some alone time.

Karen kissed Grace and Laila goodbye, hugged Leo, then swiftly headed into the hall to wait for Jack. As she heard the door close behind him, Karen turned to face him, tears streaming down her face.

"Oh Kare," he whispered, as he took her into her arms. Her tears soaked his shirt as she tried to stifle her sobs.

"That should be me, Jack," she wept, her words muffled. He stroked her hair.

"I know, I know."

"I should have had that. I _could_ have had that," she sniffled. "But it's too late now." Her voice was a whisper as her tears slowed.

"Shhh," Jack hugged her closer. "You've got me, Karebear." He kissed her temple. "I'm all you need."

She took a deep breath in, that disgusting hospital stench hitting her nose sharply once again. Except this time, it didn't smell like death. This time it smelled like life, new life. God, she hated that smell.


	6. Karen's Dream

She closed her eyes as he gently pushed her back onto the bed, her dark hair pooling onto the sheets around her head. Goosebumps rose on her skin as his hands slid up her thighs, his movements slow, almost hesitant. As his eyes found hers, she blinked slowly, turned her face away. Was she embarrassed? Or scared of what was about to happen, knowing it would change things forever? Maybe both.

Jack's hands came to rest on her lower stomach, his fingertips shyly tickling the soft skin there as he gingerly hooked his thumbs under the elastic of her thong. Her eyes searched the room as she bit her lip, a warm flush rising in her cheeks. There was her dress, strewn across the back of a chair not four feet from where they lay. There were his pants, crumpled in the corner of the room, abandoned and forgotten.

"Are you embarrassed?" he asked her, halting his actions.

"Why would you think that?"

"You're blushing."

She didn't answer, just concentrated on the point on his forehead right between the eyes. She couldn't look him in the eye, not now.

"You know I've seen you naked before, Karen."

"Never this way, honey."

He leaned in, nuzzled his cheek against hers, whispered into her ear.

"Just trust me." He put a palm over her heart, pressed himself against her. "Trust this."

The next thing she knew, her lips were pressed against his, his hands gently coaxing her legs apart. She could've cried from the sincerity of his words, the way he was making love to her; so tender, so sweet. She didn't open her eyes or break their kiss as he entered her.

To start, his movements were slow as he pumped in and out of her. Little moans and gasps filled the room, Jack breaking their kiss to concentrate fully on the rhythm of their hips. Karen felt the sweat forming on her forehead.

"Honey," she panted, "why are you doing this for me?"

Jack's speed increased, and before she could help it, Karen's arms were thrown above her head, tightly grasping the pillars of the headboard as Jack ravaged her pelvis.

"Because," he grunted through clenched teeth, as Karen felt herself nearing climax, "I - love - you."

She didn't have time to think about his words as her orgasm overtook her. Her knuckles, clenched around the wood above her head, turned white as she gripped tightly, riding the wave of pleasure. He kissed her neck as she tensed around him, her mouth open in obvious pleasure, and he came inside of her.

They didn't speak for several minutes, just exchanged several heavy sighs and pants as they regained their breath. Jack rested his head on Karen's sweaty chest, her left hand toying with his hair. She didn't ask for an explanation of what he had just said to her; she knew he didn't mean it as she would mean it, if she were to ever speak the words to him, but she let herself pretend that he did.

"I won't ever let anything happen to you, Karen," he told her softly.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When she awoke alone in her bed that morning, it didn't take Karen long to realize that she had dreamt all of it. She had these sex dreams about Jack every once in awhile, and never paid much attention to them. He meant a lot to her, and she hadn't had much of a sex life over the last 20 years, since she and Stan had finally gotten a divorce and ended their relationship once and for all.

Her lips curled in a smile as she replayed the events of her dream, her hips ground the sheets she lay in in frustration. Of course she was happy in her platonic and nurturing relationship with Jack, but even at her age she craved sexual satisfaction. Ah well, perhaps in another dream.

"Are you ready?" Jack's excited voice broke her thoughts as he burst through her door, fully dressed and teeming with energy. As the image of her -still in her bed with sleep in her eyes- hit him, he frowned. "Karen…" he whined.

"What? Ready to do what?" she asked him, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

"We're spending the day out, remember?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed next to her. He reminded her of a little boy who was eagerly waiting to open Christmas presents under the tree.

"Oh right, right," she yawned. "What do you want to do?"

"Let's go shopping and do lunch!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "I'm in the mood for a cob salad with a side of thousand dollar shopping."

Karen laughed with him, reaching her arms above her head to stretch. It was only then, when the sheet draped around her fell to her waist, did she remember that she had been sleeping in the nude. Jack's eyes opened wide in surprise as her breasts were exposed to him, and she blushed and nervously laughed as she hurriedly pulled the sheet back around her chest.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"Are you embarrassed?" Jack asked, grinning.

"No, honey, why would you think that?" she lied.

"Because you're blushing."

Karen frowned for a second before finally rolling her eyes and smiling. She shouldn't be self-conscious around Jack, she knew, but for some reason she couldn't help it. Maybe it was because that dream she had just had was still on her mind.

"Meet you downstairs in half an hour," Jack told her, leaning in and quickly pecking her cheek.

"K," she told him, a little girl grin lighting up her features as she watched him leave her bedroom. This was going to be a fun day, she could already tell.


	7. A Walk in the Park

"Well, I'm glad you two had a good time, honey," Karen spoke into the phone, her legs curled beside her on the couch as she listened to Laila's account of her and Ben's honeymoon. "Listen, I've got to get going, but come on over when you get your wedding album done, we'd love to see it…ok honey, you too. Talk to you later."

"Who was that?" Jack asked, pausing in the doorway of the library. He had his jacket on and a Burberry scarf pulled tightly around his neck. With his glasses on, Karen noticed how much he was finally turning into Will, who as they all knew, had been dressing and acting like an old man long before he actually was one.

"Laila, she and Ben are back from the Caribbean," Karen explained. "Honey are you going somewhere?" she asked, noticing his attire.

"Well it's such a nice day out, I thought maybe we could go for a walk in the park," he told her. It was true, for November, it was surprisingly warm, and the sun had been shining through the large glass windows of the library all afternoon as Karen had sat reading. She picked up the half-empty martini glass from the coffee table in front of her and took a drink while nodding at him.

Soon they were out the door, Karen bundled up like Jack, strolling arm in arm down 5th Avenue towards Central Park. Together they meandered down all the little winding paths, crisscrossing the green hills of the park, traversing the little bridges over the streams. They paused at the back entrance of the zoo to listen to the feeding of the big cats; Jack stopped on several occasions to bend down and pet cute dogs that passed by with their cute owners. As they passed a hot dog vendor on the north end of the park, Karen suddenly remembered something.

"So Jack, this morning I went to pharmacist to get a refill on one of my 'prescriptions'" - she made little quotes in the air with her fingers - "and that lazy son of a bitch was closed! So I had to go to back up pharmie, who I haven't seen in _years_-" suddenly Jack tensed next to her- "and he asked how you were doing and told me to tell you that your refill is ready." Karen paused, frowned, looked Jack in the eye. "Since when do you see pharmacist?"

Jack swallowed, wiped his palms on his thighs. This was not the time he had planned on having this conversation, but he couldn't lie to Karen.

"Kare, are you happy, you know, living with me?" he asked, his voice timid.

"Of course I am," she answered, confused.

"You've never wished you could get married again? Have a real relationship with a man?" he pushed. Karen didn't know where this was going.

"No, Poodle, you're all I need," she answered, twisting her arm around his playfully.

"God damn it, Karen!" Jack suddenly exploded, pulling away from her. They stopped walking. "I'm not going to be around forever, you know! You need to start thinking of _yourself_ for once instead of me all the time! You need to find a stable relationship, someone to take care of you, you know, when…"

"Jack, what is this all about?" Karen demanded, truly frustrated with his outburst. "What's going on?"

Jack sighed, and grabbed her hand once again. His face was apologetic, his tone was pathetic.

"Karen," he began, pulling her down onto a park bench next to him. He swallowed and blinked several times before he could spit the words out: "I'm sick."

Karen just stared at him for awhile, her brows pulled tight, her bottom lip slightly quivering. Jack stared back, a sudden sadness in his eyes that she had noticed before, but mistook it for fatigue, his 62 years weighing on his soul. Now she knew it was something more.

"What -" the word was barely a whisper. She cleared her throat, tried again. "What do you mean? How can you be-"

"I have AIDS."

Karen snapped her head away from him. She wanted to laugh, she wasn't sure why. Maybe because the only other time she had heard those words uttered from anyone, it had been jokingly. You know like when the morning after you sleep with someone for the first time, to lighten the mood you might say "I forgot to tell you, I have AIDS." Or how when someone cuts themselves with a dull kitchen knife and you're disgusted by the tiny amount of blood, you push their hand away exclaiming "Ew! I don't want your AIDS!" But when someone tells you they have AIDS - really have it, not just kidding - its completely different. She looked back at him, a sick smile on her mouth.

"You're joking."

"I'm not."

Her face fell back solemn, and she felt her throat tightening, her eyeballs beginning to sting.

"How long?" she whispered, looking down at her hands. A dark cloud had settled over them, and as she watched the little droplets of water hitting her knuckles, she wasn't sure if they were tears or raindrops. Could've been both.

"I've been HIV positive for 12 years," he told her softly. The words hit her like a knife. _Twelve years, my God,_ she thought, _twelve years and I had no idea._ He continued. "Last February I went in for a doctor's appointment and they told me it had progressed to the next stage. There's-" Jack's voice broke- "there's not much they can do now."

Karen didn't want to cry, she wanted to be strong. She wanted to be strong for Jack, for the world, but this was too much. She fought off tears for as long as she could, but suddenly, there they were, falling fast and falling hard. Jack reached for her and she cried onto his shoulders, his own tears mixing with hers. A couple of passersby stared at the exchange, but Karen didn't even care.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she spoke softly, wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

"I didn't want to worry you." Karen chuckled bitterly at the irony of it - like she _wasn't_ going to worry now? "They had a new medication, they gave me pills…it worked for awhile…I didn't think I'd ever need to tell you."

Karen sat back from Jack as she dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve. He reached a hand up and wiped away some stray mascara from under her eye.

"So what do we do now?" she asked.

"I don't know," he admitted.

"Honey, you should tell Will and Grace," Karen suggested, but Jack shook his head. "Why not? Don't you want their support?"

"I already have all the support I need," Jack told her, smiling feebly and stroking her hand. "You're all I need."


	8. Fashionably Late

**1998**

The first time they had met -in Grace's office- had been fun, but Karen had quickly forgotten about their meeting. Two weeks passed since they spoke or saw each other again, and in the midst of her faltering marriage, her struggle to get pregnant, and everything else that was going on in her life, the cute little gay boy that had captured her interest for an hour on a random Tuesday afternoon was pushed into a dusty corner of her mind.

And then, out of nowhere, she had received a most unexpected invitation from Grace.

"Karen?" Grace's timid voice broke the silence of the office.

"Yeah, honey?" Karen replied, not looking up from the blood red polish that she was sweeping across her fingernails. Her foot toyed with the curly telephone cord underneath her desk.

"Will and I are going out to dinner tomorrow night, and I was wondering if maybe you would like to come with us?" She tapped her pencil against the table in front of her where she had been looking at various carpet samples.

The nail polish brush froze in Karen's hand, and without moving her head she directed her eyes up towards Grace.

"Will's friend Jack is going to come, too," Grace continued, "I thought maybe it would be fun for the four of us to…"

"I don't know, honey," Karen interrupted, looking back down at her nails. A flush was rising in her cheeks. "I know Will doesn't really like me and I mean I barely know Jack." As thrilled as she was to be asked (although she would never show it), Karen knew she didn't fit in with this group of friends.

"Oh come on," Grace whined, "Will does too like you! And he said Jack _really_ liked you. Please come!"

Karen rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Oh ok," she consented. Grace smiled. "It will give me a good excuse to get away from Stan for a few hours."

"Good," Grace told her. "Why don't you meet us around 8 then." Grace walked to the end of Karen's desk and leaned across it to give her a small sheet of paper. "Here's the address."

Karen nodded and set the folded piece of paper down on the desk in front of her without even looking at it. She quickly turned her attention back to her nails as Grace sighed quietly and walked back to her desk, not entirely sure that Karen would show tomorrow night.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Driver, what time is it?" Karen called towards the front of the limo, the tinted glass divider cracked just enough so that when he looked into the rearview mirror, Driver could just see Karen's anxious eyes.

"About 8:15, Mrs. Walker," he replied. Her eyes darted to the left, towards the window next to her, and she rolled the divider back up.

Normally, Karen aimed to be fashionably late. But tonight, her first night out with these new people, she had hoped to be on time. Now that she was 15 minutes late - by no fault of her own, traffic had been a bitch - she felt like she was being just plain rude. If she had been going out tonight with Stanley, or one of her high society friends like Beverly Leslie, she wouldn't have cared. But these people were different; they were real, decent. She didn't want to be the odd man out.

Five minutes later, Karen found herself approaching a small round table with Will, Grace, and Jack seated around it, talking and laughing, completely oblivious to her approach. Will's back was to her, and as she handed the restaurant host her coat, she very plainly heard the words he was speaking.

"Come on, Grace. Did you really expect her to show?"

Karen froze as Grace slapped Will's arm, giving him a harsh look.

"Will!" she chastised him as he rubbed the sore spot where she had hit him. "At least give her a chance."

Jack toyed with the lemon slice he had pulled from the side of his water glass. His eyes wandered upward, and locked with Karen's. She was standing now, four five feet behind Will, clutching her purse in front of her awkwardly. She had clearly been standing there for some time, and Jack realized she had more than likely heard their conversation. He had taken an instant liking to Karen, failing to notice her brashness as a negative, and rather, embracing it as a fun quirk that made her dazzlingly different than other person he had ever met.

"Karen!" he exclaimed happily, upon seeing her. He was glad she had come, and the last thing he wanted was for her to feel uncomfortable before she even sat down with them.

Upon hearing her name, Grace snapped her head in Karen's direction and stood, welcoming her to the table. Will remained seated and rolled his eyes at Jack, taking a sip from his wine.

"See, Will?" Grace addressed him, as she guided Karen to her chair. "I knew she'd come." Will smirked at Grace before turning his attention to Karen.

"Karen, good to see you." His tone of voice obviously betrayed the meaning of his sentiment.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Will," Karen shot back as she sat. She smiled at Jack. "Hi, Jack!"

"Hello, Mrs. Walker," he playfully replied. "I'm glad you came."

Karen toyed with her hair, sizing up the restaurant Grace had chosen before answering. No, she wouldn't see anyone she knew here.

"Well, I like to be the big finale," she told him. Another eye roll from Will. It would've been just as easy for her to tell them the truth, that she had gotten stuck in traffic and that she was sorry for being late. But that wasn't Karen - she wasn't about to show any sign of weakness. This was something Jack and the others would soon learn, and that they would spend the next several years working to break down.

The rest of the evening flew by for Karen. The initial awkwardness had soon disappeared, and soon Karen was enjoying the company of her three new friends. When the talk turned to Will and his recent break up with his boyfriend of seven years, Michael, Karen was only halfway listening. Her eyes glazed over, and she offered the occasional head nod to show she was keeping up with the conversation, but she was really engrossed with the dynamic of these three people.

Here was Grace, her boss at the office who dressed horribly and was as easy to walk over as an oriental rug. Grace was undoubtedly a scatter brain, at times a bit flaky, but she always meant well. Of course she had some hang ups, but Grace had a big heart. Just the fact that she had bothered to even think of inviting Karen out to dinner with them tonight was proof enough of that. Grace had no reason to think so highly of Karen, but for some reason, she was persistent in trying to form a friendship with her.

Next, Karen's eye wandered to Will and she sized him up. A gorgeous gay man, she understood his personality. Although they often butted heads on the surface, of the three of them, his personality was the closest to hers. He was well-liked by everyone, a loyal friend to those he loved, and almost overly confident. But she knew that there was more to him than that - that underneath his strong and capable façade, he had some heartache. Whether it was from his failed attempts to find love or from some bad experience dealing with his sexuality in his past, she wasn't sure. But she knew that, unlike Grace, there was more to Will than met the eye.

And then, there was Jack. Instantly sweet, loveable Jack. The contrast between his childlike personality and his physique, which was definitely all man, was charming, and Karen easily found him the most interesting. Jack didn't exist in the world of serious emotion, drama and heartache - he was pure fun and joy almost all of the time. She liked that about him. She was lacking that "fun" element in her life, and his playful ways were a welcome relief from her straight-laced socialite lifestyle. Better than that, he seemed to absolutely adore her, despite the fact they had basically just met.

"Karen?" Will's voice interrupting her thoughts made her jump. "Do you want to come?"

"I'm sorry," she smiled at him. "Come where?"

"Back to my place, for some drinks?" he answered slowly, obviously this conversation had already been had while she was zoned out. She looked at Jack and Grace who looked back at her expectantly.

"Sure, honey," she answered softly. They all stood to leave, and as she reached around the back of her chair to grab her purse, Jack caught her eye and flashed her a huge smile. She had a good feeling about him - about all of them, really. She thought that next time Grace invited her somewhere, she would be much more willing to accept.


	9. A Look at Lady Liberty

Jack grabbed Karen's hand pulled her up the stairs behind him, a little more roughly than he had meant to. She giggled.

"Honey! Careful!"

"Sorry, sorry," he laughed. Karen watched in awed contemplation as his head crested above the top of the narrow staircase, the bright light of the sun illuminating a thin, glowing outline around his head. As they emerged onto the upper deck of the ferry, the ocean breeze ruffled his hair and brought a flush to his cheeks. Her angel looked perfectly angelic.

Jack dragged Karen over to the railing as the ferry trudged towards the Statue of Liberty, which was growing bigger in front of them by the second. The ferry was unusually empty for a Saturday afternoon, but the chill of late fall had finally begun to set in, and most tourists had decided to venture to indoor attractions today.

"I haven't done this in years," Karen mused, spreading her arms in front of her and gripping the cold railing lightly as she studied the bronze curves of Lady Liberty.

"Me neither," Jack agreed, he too studying the statue and waves below her. "When I was a teenager I used to love coming out here." He looked down at her, so peaceful and pensive. He moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her small waist, breathing in the scent of her hair which was heightened by the breeze flowing through it. "She was always kind of a beacon of hope for me, you know? A reminder that I was free, and could be free in knowing who I was."

Karen didn't say anything, but let his words sink in. She wished she had been like him when she was a young woman; confident, independent, sure of the fact that there was something better out there for her and that her life could be whatever she made it. Instead, she had been reliant on the men in her life, always feeling that she wasn't deserving of her own freedom. Ever since she was little she had been bending to the will of other people, and she had paid for it dearly.

After a few moments of silence, she licked her lips, spoke slowly, still looking out over the glistening water.

"You're still free, Jack," she told him softly, finally turning in his arms to look at him. "However you want to spend the rest of your life is up to you."

Since Jack had told her about his illness, Karen had been having trouble putting into words everything she wanted to say to him. All she wanted was for him to know that she would never leave his side, even up until he took his final breath, and that she would do anything with him and for him to make sure he was happy and fulfilled. She had hoped that he would read into that with her last sentiment.

Jack looked down into her eyes, knowing exactly what she meant. As scared as he was about what the future held for him, he took comfort in the fact that Karen was with him, no matter what.

He smiled at her, and without really knowing why, bent his face down to kiss her lips.

When Karen broke their kiss, she quickly turned back to face the statue in front of them. She didn't want him to see the tears that were threatening to fall from her eyes. He resumed his grip on her body and kissed her hair.

"Hey, remember how you told me that when you were little you wanted to be a ballerina?" he asked, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"Yeah?"

"How come you never pursued that?"

"Oh, I wasn't a good enough dancer to be a professional, honey."

"That's not what you said before. You said you were a soloist with a professional dance company."

"For young people - a professional dance company for young people."

"You could've done it, Kare."

"Yeah, well, things happened."

"Do you think if you hadn't gotten married you would have tried to go pro?"

"I don't know, honey…my priorities changed a lot during those years. I can't even begin to remember what I was thinking."

"But don't you ever regret not going for it?"

"No, honey. No regrets."

"Well, what _do _you have regrets about in your life? I mean, if there was one thing you could go back and change, what would it be?"

"Hmm…nothing."

"Really?"

"Really. I learned a long time ago that its useless to have regrets. Sure, there are some things that could've gone better, some people that I didn't take the time to appreciate as much as I should have…but everything that has ever happened to me, and every decision I have ever made has been a learning experience. Besides, if I had done even one thing differently in the past, I might not be here with you now."

Karen turned her head over her shoulder and flashed Jack a grin before stepping up onto a lower run of the railing.

"What are you doing?" Jack asked, slight panic in his voice as he gripped her body tighter for fear that she might fall overboard.

"Get up here," she instructed, finding her balance.

"Are you crazy?"

"You know that I am."

Jack frowned before removing one of his hands from her waist to grip the railing in front of her and pull himself up, placing is his feet just outside of hers on the lowest rung. Immediately, a shot of adrenaline went through his veins as the wind whipped his face and the rest of the ferry behind them seemed to disappear.

"Look Jack, I'm flying!" Karen laughed, releasing the railing and extending her arms out next to her. Jack laughed too at the cheesy "Titanic" reference.

"I knew you were gonna say that," he groaned. Karen continued to stretch her arms out next to her, but he opted not to play the dare devil, preferring the warmth of the embrace he had on her.

"Thanks for playing with me today, Kare," he whispered into her ear. He felt her smile against his cheek.

"Anything for you, Poodle," she replied, and lowered her arms to rest them on top of his, feeling the fabric of his shirt and the strength of his arms beneath it, not knowing how many more times she would be able to.


	10. Takeout and Tears

Will heard the sound of her stilettos on the tiled hallway floor outside of his office, but the sharp _clack, clack, clack_ didn't register in his mind. His index finger slid along the corner of the meticulously chiseled maple picture frame as he picked it up, smiled back at the people in the photograph and perched on the corner of his desk.

They were an odd group; a mish-mash of personalities that had somehow ended up together one sweet Sunday afternoon in Central Park, and had gotten along so famously that Will couldn't resist the urge to take the picture. It had turned out so adorably that it became an immediate staple in the next several offices he occupied.

Vince was tan and handsome as he sat on the ground and leaned against a beam of the picnic table, his face turned not towards the camera but instead upward, towards a smiling Karen who was seated on the bench of the table above him. She was looking right at Will behind the camera, the image capturing a rare inner joy and lack of self-consciousness. A two-year old Ben was standing next to her on the bench she was seated on, in profile as he planted a kiss on her cheek. Vince held one of his tiny hands and the other was wrapped around Karen's neck.

Will studied the photograph; tried to remember the warm breeze that had caressed their cheeks and the bright sun that had left its rosy imprint on their shoulders that afternoon, so long ago. A soft knock on him door drew his focus up and away from the memory.

"Come in," he called, twisting his torso to place the picture frame into a cardboard box that was sitting next to him on his big mahogany desk.

"Hi, honey," Karen greeted him, stepping into his office and closing the door behind him. She smiled, her face assuming a stance that he had just been looking at in the picture, only this version in front of him possessed a few more wrinkles, had a bit more natural joy.

"Karen, what are you doing here?" he asked her, pleasantly surprised to see his old friend standing before him, clutching a greasy paper bag, its top rolled down to seal its contents.

"Can't I bring my lawyer a little lunch?" she asked, moving closer to him to set the bag of takeout down next to him on the desk.

"No, actually, you can't," Will responded, sniffing the bag next to him as she unrolled the top. "Because as of today, I am officially your _former_ lawyer."

"Right, right," Karen smiled, taking several white boxes out of the bag and arranging them neatly next to him. "A friend then? Can't I bring my friend a little lunch?"

Will shrugged playfully and picked up the takeout box that was sitting closest to him. Karen moved around to the back of his desk, pausing to give him a small embrace as she did so, before settling into his leather captain's chair and selecting her own box of Chinese food.

"Good Lord, this place looks terrible!" she observed, glancing over the nearly-empty office. The walls displayed several bald spots, where the paint had been chipped over the years. Will had cleverly hidden these blemishes with his diplomas and hanging picture frames, but now that all the walls were bare they were painfully obvious. The hardwood floor had lost its shine in places where Will had paced over it a few hundred too many times, now made obvious by the lack of decorative rugs and well-placed pieces of furniture.

"I know," Will agreed, chewing a noodle that he thought probably hadn't been cooked enough. "I feel bad for whoever gets it next."

"Well one of those other gay little lawyer boys can fix it up nice," Karen suggested, "pick up where you left off."

Will didn't say anything as he continued to chew, just nodded in agreement. If he was being honest with himself, he was a little nervous about if anyone in this firm would be able to pick up where he left off - and in more ways than just the interior decoration of his large corner office.

"So how does it feel to be a retired old man?" Karen asked, a smile in her voice.

"Amazing," Will swallowed, "and terrifying." Karen cocked her head to the right, gave a questioning look. "The feeling of release is incredible," Will explained, "like for the first time in 40 years I have nothing to worry about - no responsibility to anyone within these four walls. But…I'm just not sure what I'm going to do with myself."

Karen nodded slowly in understanding. She had felt the same way when she retired from Grace Adler Designs, but the feeling had quickly passed when she realized how much there was left unaccomplished in her life that she suddenly had all the time in the world to do.

"You'll find things, honey," she reassured him. "Trust me."

Will smiled at her, truly comforted by her confidently reassuring words. This was nice; it had been a long time since he had spent any time alone with Karen. He realized how much he had missed her company.

"So why are you here, really?"

"Well, you know…I…" she hesitated. Karen actually wasn't entirely sure herself why she had felt compelled to drop by Will's office this afternoon. "I guess I just wanted to spend one more afternoon here before you handed over the office key to someone else."

"Ah," Will muttered, ingesting what she had just told him. Things were definitely changing rapidly lately - and he was glad he wasn't the only one who seemed to be feeling the effects.

"How's Jack?"

Karen wasn't sure if his question was as out-of-the-blue as it seemed to her, or if she was just more sensitive to that particular question in light of recent events. She was fairly certain Jack hadn't told Will anything about his condition, but Will's sudden curiosity about their friend still took her aback. Her hesitation did not go unnoticed by Will.

"Um…he's fine," she lied. She looked him in the eye as she said the words, remembering that once, a long time ago, she had read somewhere that people who were lying tended to avoid eye contact. She did her best to make her words resound as truth.

"Good, good…" Will replied, his voice quiet. Something about Karen's demeanor seemed off to him. It was probably the fact that although she didn't want to have this conversation with Will now, somewhere in her subconscious she was dying to have him as a support beam in this ordeal. Jack may not have wanted Will and Grace's support, but she was beginning to realize that if she was going to make it through this mentally unscathed, she would need it.

Karen averted her eyes to the packing box across from her. She set her takeout down and pulled the box closer to her, rooting through it to find a new topic of conversation. When her hand settled upon the photograph Will had been looking at when she walked in, she had found her perfect diversion.

"God, I look so young," she muttered, scanning the faces of the people in the picture, including her own.

"You look practically the same," Will replied, taking the picture from her hands and tossing it gently back into the box. She may have been desperate to change the subject, but he wasn't as eager. He grabbed her hands that had been thrown toward the box in protest, intercepting her attempt to reclaim the photograph. She was grasping at thin air now, literally and figuratively, as her diversion disappeared.

"Karen," Will spoke her name slowly and deliberately, grasping her extended hand firmly but gently with both of his. He chose his words carefully, not wanting her to become defensive or secretive and push him away farther. "Is everything…_ok_…with Jack?"

But Karen did get defensive, and she brashly wrenched her hand from Will's grasp and stood. Instead of answering him, she purposefully strode towards the window on an opposite wall and stood in front of it indignantly, not wanting to evade his question but also not wanting to answer it. Her gaze was intent on the street below her, but she wasn't seeing the people hurrying across it.

Before long, she felt Will's hands on her shoulders. He didn't push her into talking, just let his gesture comfort and assure her. She turned around slowly, looked up into his eyes.

"He's sick, Will," she whispered. He frowned, his eyes searched hers for a moment before she looked down at the floor between them. Her next words were barely audible, sighed as an afterthought. Karen had been thinking them for weeks now, but she had never allowed herself to say the words aloud. But she needed to say them, for herself and for Will. "He's dying and there's nothing I can do to help him."

Will's mind was reeling. He had no idea what she was talking about, but it was painfully obvious that she was serious and so was the situation. He had followed her gaze down to the floor, and mentally cringed when a tear drop splattered the top of his leather dress shoe.

Instinctively, he pulled Karen into his arms, where she cried into his shoulder, the explanation of her sorrow coming out in sobs. They didn't leave each other's embrace for over an hour. She cried, he cried, and for the next couple of hours, Will completely forgot that this was his last day in his office. And that would never be the reason why he remembered this day.


	11. Meeting an Old Friend for the First Time

**2009**

After spending a generous amount of time with Grace's daughter, Laila, during her infancy, Karen was beginning to feel more comfortable with children and babies. Despite this, she was still feeling a slight twang of nerves as she strolled down 5th Avenue towards Central Park.

She knew how to deal with little girls; knew how to braid their hair and let them try on her jewels as they squealed in delight. But little boys were foreign creatures to her. It was true that she had gotten better at relating to children on a basic level, but the differences between the genders was still striking enough to give her pause when considering her first meeting with Will and Vince's son.

Karen veered to the left, passed the entrance to the zoo. Her sunglasses slid along the bridge of her nose, moistened by a slight sweat brought on by the warm summer day in Manhattan. A jogger passed her on the left, a couple with a stroller crossed in front of her. Did she look out of place here? Walking all alone, purposefully and proud towards a destination which she couldn't possibly be dressed for? Her pumps and silk garments didn't exactly lend themselves to a playful day in the park. Yes, she was out of place, but she was used to the feeling. Her entire life she had always stood out, no matter how she looked or what she said or who she was with.

When she had been a teenager, she constantly felt the presence of eyes on her. Usually the peepers belonged to a much older man as he sized Karen up, undressed her with his filthy eyes. She had always looked older than she was (until she turned 30, at which point her aging slowed dramatically), and by the time she was 19 it was a common occurrence for her to be handed the phone number of men who were old enough to have been her father. Whether she was out with a group of girlfriends, or just at the grocery store with her mother, she knew her unique beauty and self-confidence made her stand out.

Of course she had never actually called any of these men or engaged in a relationship with them. In her bedroom, under her bed, she kept all of their little notes and scribblings - some just the corner of a napkin with a ten-digit number scrawled across it, some actual love notes. The little wooden box her father had made for her sixth birthday housed all of these discarded treasures, and whenever she was feeling particularly inadequate or unwanted, she would go through each and every note until she felt thoroughly reminded of her desirability. Somewhere in the manse she still had that box. After her divorce from Stanley three years earlier, she hadn't let it out of her sight for two weeks.

The path she was walking on forked a few feet ahead of her. She took the path that curved to the right, and before long the overhand of the big Willow tree where she was to meet Will and his family became visible to her. A lone picnic table sat beneath the curtain of the tree's droopy branches, maybe 50 yards off of the path.

When Will spotted her coming towards them, he waved. She did not return the gesture, but quickened her pace, greeting them with a wide smile when she reached the table. A lovely picnic lunch had been set up across the table top, and a few yards away Jack was chasing a toddler with olive skin and dark, wavy hair around a grassy clearing.

"Hi, Karen," Vince greeted her, standing from the table to give her a hug.

"Hi, guys," she replied to both him and Will, her attention not leaving the running form of their little boy.

"That's him," Will told her, noticing where her attention was.

Karen hesitantly set her purse down on the bench of the table, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and cautiously moved towards the clearing.

"Hey Poodle," she greeted Jack, moving to stand next to him. His arms were folded across his chest as he watched Ben exhaust himself on the grass a few feet in front of him. When Karen spoke, he turned towards her wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Are you OK?" he asked her softly, as they both observed Ben crawling around in front of them, pretending to be a dog. Jack knew that experiences with children were sometimes difficult for Karen, emotionally and otherwise, and she had confessed her growing nerves about this particularly meeting earlier to him in the day.

"Yeah," she breathed. It wasn't a lie, but her heart pounded inside of her chest. "Can I meet him?"

"Of course," Jack replied. Karen glanced behind her, to where she could see Vince busy at the grill and Will filling plastic cups full of lemonade. As if on cue, he looked up and met her gaze, then instantly dropped what he was doing and jogged towards her and Jack, who was now crawling next to Ben, woofing and sniffing as he partook in the toddler's game of make believe.

"Hey, Ben," Will called , trotting over to where Karen stood. "Come here! I want you to meet someone."

Ben looked up at Will, barked twice, then enthusiastically crawled over to his father, pretending to pant as Will lifted him from the ground and took him in his arms.

Karen grinned widely as she came face to face with Ben. The resemblance between him and Will was striking, and she couldn't help but be charmed by the adorable little boy.

"Hi, Ben," she said, making her voice sugary sweet. Will adjusted him on his hip and took a step closer to Karen.

"Ben, this is Karen," Will told his son. Ben studied Karen intently, then giggled.

"Woof! Woof!" he greeted her. Karen shifted, smiled uncomfortably. He was cute and outgoing, but she didn't know how to interact with a little boy pretending to be a dog.

Will set Ben down as he heard Vince calling his name from the picnic site.

"Hang on, guys," he muttered before taking his leave. Ben watched his father run off, then looked back up at Karen. She smiled down at him, but didn't know what to do.

"Come on," Ben requested, and grabbed Karen's hand. His expression was warm, like his father's, and she instantly felt comfortable with him. For whatever reason, he liked her. "Let's find Uncle Jack."

Karen didn't hesitate this time, and felt herself sigh with relief as she followed behind Ben in the search for a hiding Jack. His enthusiasm and joyfulness reminded her a lot of Will. Someday, he would grow up to become a great man like his father. But until then, Karen was more than happy enjoying the innocence and playfulness of his childhood.


	12. It's Been a Long Time

"It's been a long time."

Stan's hand closed around Karen's, and she noticed the fragility of his fingers, his wrist. This was not the strong, sturdy Stanley she had been married to; this Stan was weak.

A smile formed on his thin lips as she circled her thumb against his knuckle, the slightest hint of the glimmer of tears in her eyes. She was seated on the edge of his hospital bed that was situated in the middle of what used to be his library in the manse. Karen sighed.

"What?" he asked her. His voice was soft, but carried the same weight of concern for her that it always had, even on the day she had said her last good bye and moved out of his life for the next 22 years.

"I used to live here," she replied, shifting her gaze from the line of the ceiling back to his pale face. He nodded slowly.

"Those were wonderful times."

Although Karen wanted to respond, she was thankful that she was too choked up to utter a reply - she wasn't sure what she would've said.

When she had gotten the call earlier that day, a million emotions coursed through her body. She hadn't heard Olivia's voice for two decades, and when she called to say that Stan wanted to see her one last time, she was certain she would never hear it again.

Karen had heard through the grapevine of the select few people from her social circle of the old days that Stanley was ill. She knew he was receiving Hospice service, and that it wouldn't be long until she read his obituary in the _Times_. But the last thing she was expecting was a phone call from her estranged former step-daughter, declaring that Stan had requested one last audience with Karen.

"Karen…I want to apologize," Stan began. Karen looked down at their entwined hands, shook her head.

"Please, Stanley," she whispered. "Don't do this."

"No, darling, I have to," he replied. From his seated position in the bed next to her, he reached his free hand up to cup her chin, tilt her face up to meet his eyes. "I know I was bad to you…in the middle there. I know I never gave you the chance at the one thing you wanted most…I know I was with a multitude of other women before, during, and after you…but I need you to know…I always loved you the most. And that's the truth. I don't know what I would have done without you."

Karen closed her eyes, not able to look at him. She breathed in and out slowly, forcing the tears in her eyes back into their watery chasms from whence they came. She could not cry now.

"Well," she began, when she felt she was composed enough to look at him again and speak, "you were very good to me, Stan. You gave me some of the best years of my life, and made it a very comfortable life at that. For that, I will always be grateful." She concluded by raising their joined hands and placing a soft kiss on the back of his. She couldn't lie to him - she hadn't loved him in years, but she did acknowledge the fact that he had been a big part of her life, and that he truly did mean a lot to her.

Stan smiled. She blinked back at him, made an attempt to return his smile.

"Do you remember the first time we met?"

Stan's question caught Karen off guard.

"Of course I do."

"You looked so stunning that evening…you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen."

"That was a long time ago."

"You're still gorgeous, and you know it."

"Is that the only reason you ever married me?"

"It was the reason I married you, yes," Stan admitted, a mischievous grin illuminating his features. "But it wasn't the reason I fell in love with you."

"Well, Stanley…people fall in and out of love," she replied, as if she felt the need to justify the end of their romance. "It's just one of those things."

"What about Jack?" Stan asked. Karen frowned.

"What about him?"

"You're still living with him, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"So you haven't fallen out of love with him, even after 30 years."

"Stanley, I…"

"It's alright, Karen," Stan put his hand to her cheek to silence her. "I always knew you loved him. There was always one big thing I could give you that he couldn't, but in every other way he was the man of your dreams. It's…right, that you ended up with him."

Karen stared at her lap, give a sharp yet quiet laugh. She didn't try to protest or confirm Stan's suggestion, but instead merely bobbed her head back and forth in subtle agreement.

"Today isn't about me, Stanley," she finally said. They shared a deep look for several seconds, neither of them breaking their eye contact as each replayed similar memories in their minds of the times they had shared together. Stan's stiff fingers softly caressed Karen's cheek.

"Dad?" Olivia's voice from the door drew their attention. "Dr. Spiegel is here." She disappeared back into the hallway.

"I should go," Karen told Stan quietly.

"You don't have to," he replied. "Olivia's making tea - you could chat with her while the doctor is here, it won't take very long."

"No, no, I need to be heading back anyway," Karen conceded, standing to hover over Stan's face. "Thank you for asking me here today," she told him, placing a kiss on his cheek.

"Karen," Stan muttered her name, reaching up to pull her closer to him. "I love you." He kissed her lips, and she didn't resist.

When she finally did pull away, there were tears in both of their eyes, as they realized that their bittersweet love story was finally coming to a close.

"Goodbye, Stanley," Karen whispered. They shared one last kiss before she grabbed her purse. When she reached the doorway, she paused, turning back to get one last good look at him. His eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling slowly. A serene smile was on his face. Karen bit her lip and looked down at the floor for a moment to compose herself before pulling the door shut behind her.

Three days later, Karen found a cut out of Stanley Walker's obituary from the paper folded next to her morning oatmeal.


	13. The Red Radish

**1985**

She scanned the crowded bar, putting on an air of disinterest as she crossed her legs, took a sip of her beer. She was seated at the bar, the stool to her left empty, the one to her right occupied by a barely-legal college girl trying to look sophisticated as she flirted with a forty-something on her other side.

Karen rolled her eyes, looked down at her watch. Another wasted Saturday night; another Sunday morning she would wake up alone. She toyed with the wedding ring on her left hand, flipped it over with her thumb so that the stone was turned inward, pressing against her palm.

She had been coming to this place for almost two months now. Every night she would enter the hotel through the back, hoping to pass unnoticed amongst the bleary-eyed tourists who were checking in after a long day of travelling. She had been there so frequently that the security guard that stood between the entrance to the swimming pool and the little restaurant knew her by name.

"Mrs. Popeil," he would nod at her as she hurried past him, rounding the corner into The Red Radish. It was typical of a hotel restaurant, which turned into a thriving bar as soon as 10 p.m. rolled around. The décor wasn't particularly tacky, but was lacking any sign of a central theme. For some reason this always bothered Karen; she liked to be able to categorize the aspects of her life that she had trouble dealing with, but this bar refused to fit into any kind of construct.

Even though he never showed up, and Karen left the bar each night at exactly 12:35 a.m. - waiting an extra five minutes in case he were to arrive at 12:30 - she couldn't help but still feel hopeful each evening as she dressed for the night out. Despite her unconventional childhood and lack of any kind of parenting, Karen's spirit was still strong. She remained an eternal optimist; even in the face of despair she could see the light at the end of the tunnel, the bright side of every situation. This was a quality that would be worn down over the remainder of life, and as disappointment after disappointment struck her psyche. But for now, at 25 years old, she was full of hope. If only she could just get out from under herself.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" a voice asked over her left shoulder.

Karen spun slightly on her barstool, turning to face him.

"No, no, go ahead," she replied, gesturing towards the empty seat next to her and turning back to her drink. The man smiled at her, not taking his eyes off of her as he sat down next to her.

"Do you come here often?" he asked.

Karen rolled her eyes before turning back to look at him. So he would be the one tonight; the man who, without fail, would try to pick her up before she turned him down and went home for the night. There was always one, sometimes two or three in a night.

"Yes, actually," she answered him, a pleasant expression plastered across her face. She didn't elaborate, and it was soon clear that he was going to be a talker.

"Well, what's good here?" he asked, leaning in closer to her to study the contents of her glass. She caught a subtle whiff of his cologne. She couldn't place it, but she knew she recognized it. Maybe from one of the testers at those upscale department stores on Fifth Avenue? "What are you having?"

"A beer."

"A beer? A beautiful woman like you, drinking a _beer_? I don't think so." He gave a sharp, high-pitched whistle, motioned the bartender over from the other end of the counter. "Vodka martini, please. And one for the lady."

_Great, _Karen thought, _here we go again._

"That's very kind of you," she told him, as he turned his attention back to her with a big grin, like he had just done the most impressive thing in the world and was expecting commendation for it. He seemed pleased with her gratitude.

Karen was grateful that he didn't try to initiate any kind of lame small talk as they waited for their drinks, and she took the opportunity to study him. This man was older than the others, probably around 40. He was well-dressed, but not pretentiously so, alluding to the fact that he had big money but not flaunting it. He had a medium build, fairly muscular, but was going soft. His peaches and cream complexion complimented his graying hair, which Karen noticed was thinning in the back. He certainly was no Superman, but for some reason, Karen found herself oddly attracted to him.

When their drinks arrived, the man lifted his glass slightly to toast her. Karen hesitated, picked up the martini glass the way he had, and gently clinked the rim of her against his. She braced herself for the taste of the martini - she knew the taste of vodka well and was ready for its icy burn down her throat. When she took her first sip, however, she was pleasantly surprised. This was much better than straight vodka.

"This is good," she commented, without even realizing the meaning he would read into her words.

"Haven't you ever had a martini before?"

"Um, actually…no."

"Well, I'm pleased that I could introduce a new drink into your life, Miss…"

"Popeil. Karen Popeil." Karen extended a hand limply toward him, allowed him to take it and kiss the top, smiling up at her.

"I'm Stanley Walker."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Walker."

"Please, call me Stan."

"Alright. Nice to meet you, _Stan_."

"So what brings you here tonight, Karen?"

"I'm waiting for someone."

"Yeah…me too." Stan suddenly frowned, and Karen could've sworn she heard a slight sigh escape him. "I just don't know who yet." It would only be years later that Karen would find out that Stan had wandered into the bar that night after a fight with his then-wife, Cathy. He was looking for someone to love, truly love, someone to take care of, and someone to heal his breaking heart. He wouldn't realize until later that she had found that someone, sitting at the bar and relishing the taste of her first martini. "Who are you waiting for?"

Karen cleared her throat. She liked this man, she really did, although she didn't know why. There was something about his demeanor, how he was talking to her like an equal, not just a conquest or a prize to be won, as all the other men in her life had. She felt strangely secure with him. And that's exactly why she knew she had to be honest with him. The stone of her wedding band was digging into her palm, creating a little round imprint in the soft flesh. She used her thumb to spin it back around.

"My husband."

Stan's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"I see." He took a sip of his drink, Karen studied his face. "Is it…an anniversary?" he ventured, trying to guess the reason that a married couple would need to meet somewhere, let alone a bar at 11:45 at night.

"No, no." This time Karen took a drink. "He um, he left me…a few months ago. As he was walking out the door, I told him that when he realized what a mistake he was making, he would know where to find me. This is the hotel where we first met." She didn't realize that she had also just met another future husband here.

"Oh, I see. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It was a bad marriage, I can hardly blame him for leaving. In fact, I had my bags packed that night, too. He just beat me to it."

"So why are you still waiting for him?"

Karen smiled sadly, studied the honesty and concern in Stan's eyes.

"Because he's all I've got."

Stan was quiet for a minute, and Karen turned away from him and back towards the bar. Her drink was getting low.

"Karen…" he began, his voice surprising Karen. She hadn't expected him to pursue this pick-up once he knew she was married. "I think we're a lot alike, you and I. Looking for the happiness we deserve, but trapped by the life we've created for ourselves." She smiled at him, instinctively batted her lashes. "Do you want another one of those?" he asked, motioning towards her empty martini glass. She smiled shyly and nodded, blushing as he smiled with her.

Karen stayed at the bar until 1:30 a.m. that night. The next four nights she went, Stan was there, waiting for her at the bar, with her vodka martini with two olives all ready to go. After the fifth night like that, Stan got them a suite at a hotel downtown, and Karen never went back to that hotel bar.


	14. The Game of House

Jack's hands curved gently over the keys; his fingertips brushed the cold white ivory, lingering in quiet contemplation before stroking hard and fast. As the melody poured from the piano, his movements were quick and passionate.

Karen had bought him the grand piano to replace his baby grand for his birthday nearly twelve years ago; the same year he found out he was HIV positive. That birthday had been a private, inward struggle for him, and somehow the piano helped to relieve his secret stress. It seemed to him as though every time he sat down at that black wooden bench, all of his fear melted away.

Jack had a pretty good idea of who it was that he had contracted the disease from, but these days he tried his best not to think about it. He figured there was simply no point in stewing over the circumstances of that night, how things might be different now if he had made just one different choice. He couldn't change what had happened, and didn't want to carry around a grudge for the rest of his life, however long that might be.

The truth was, since his diagnosis, his life hadn't been better. He had grown up immensely since moving in with Karen, and not because she forced him too or because the baggage she had brought along with her had been so stressful - but rather, because he wanted to. Finally owning his own home and sharing it with Karen was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Their relationship had strengthened, and for the first time in his life, he truly felt needed. Receiving the diagnosis that his body harbored a deadly disease forced him to put his life into perspective; his aspirations, his accomplishments, and most importantly, his relationships.

Just as with Grace and Will, Jack had chosen to keep his son, Elliot, in the dark about his disease. His relationship with Elliot was the only one in his life that didn't have any drama or strings attached, and he wanted to keep it like that. Everything was light and breezy with his only child. Since Jack didn't even know Elliot existed until he was already 12 years old, Jack hadn't been much of a parenting influence in his life. Instead, they were buddies and spent ample amounts of time together, allowing Jack the thrilling experience of being able to watch his flesh and blood grow and mature into a responsible, caring, and intelligent man.

The furious cadence of the piano concerto slowed to a soft lullabye as Jack closed his eyes, his fingers knowing the pattern on their own.

Thirteen years ago Elliot had gotten married; six years ago announced that he and his wife were expecting a baby. Jack thrilled at the thought of being a grandfather; since he hadn't been around when Elliot was born, the excitement and anxiousness of waiting for a baby was new to him.

Jack smiled as he felt a pair of little hands circle around from behind him and cover his eyes. The tune he was playing changed over into a light and bouncy tune, goofy to reflect the mood that had just come over the room.

"Who's that?" Jack asked, his eyes still obstructed by the hands. "Karen, is that you?" he smiled, knowing full well that it wasn't. A child's giggle erupted behind him.

"No! It's me, grandpa!"

Jack grabbed the arms that were attached to the hands over his face and spun around on the piano bench, making his move to tickle his granddaughter as she laughed uncontrollably.

"I knew it was you! I knew it was my little Katie!" Jack laughed, as he ceased his tickling and lifted the five year old onto his lap.

"No you didn't!" she laughed.

"Yes I did," he told her, kissing her cheek. "I have eyes in the back of my head, you know."

"Nuh-uh! Only mommy does!"

Jack laughed and turned the both of them back towards the piano, placing his hands back on the keys as Katie adjusted herself on his lap.

"What would you like to hear?"

"My favorite."

"Ok," Jack consented, and struck the opening chords of Moonlight Sonata. It was a weighty choice for a five year old, but Katie was mature beyond her years, and old soul in the body of a little girl. This coupled with Jack's childlike tendencies made them a perfect match.

Katie laid her little head back onto Jack's chest as he played the soothing piece, and as he came to the end he heard the voices of Elliot and Karen in the hall. After a few seconds, Karen's voice became quiet as their conversation ended and he felt Elliot's presence in the room.

"Hi, Elliot," he greeted him, not turning around from the piano.

"Hey, Jack," Elliot replied, perching on the loveseat that was directly adjacent to the piano. "I see Katie found her way up here just fine."

"Of course she did," Jack answered, looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

"It's my favorite room in the whoooooooole house!" Katie enthusiastically responded, leaning forward to stroke a few keys of the piano. Jack smiled.

Elliot hadn't grown up with Jack as his father figure, so he had never called him anything but "Jack." But when his own daughter was born, he had insisted that she call him "grandpa." He was her grandpa, after all, and he didn't want to confuse her with he and Jack's own unconventional past.

"So listen, do you think you can watch Katie this afternoon while Mel and I do some furniture shopping?" Elliot asked. He and his wife had just purchased a new house in Brooklyn and had been busy furnishing it the past couple of weeks in anticipation of the birth of their second child.

"No problem," Jack answered. Katie pounded out "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" on the piano. Spending time with his granddaughter was one of the jewels of Jack's life as an older man. She brought him joy in a way that only a child filled with life and love could. After spending time with her and forming that bond, he now understood completely why Karen had wanted a baby so badly.

Elliot thanked him, and stood to take his leave of the room. The rest of the afternoon was spent happily, with Katie and Jack entertaining each other in various ways. Karen spent an hour or so with them at one point, playing Barbies and house. She blushed when Katie insist that she and Jack play the roles of the mom and dad.

Jack realized that in a way, he and Karen were caught up in a perpetual game of house, of make believe. They lived as husband and wife, and although they had love for each other, they would never have those legal titles. And as much as Karen had wanted it, and perhaps on some level he had, too, no one would ever call them "Mom and Dad."


	15. Some Things Aren't Meant for Keeps

**1999**

A comfortable silence filled Grace's office as the sound of traffic from the street below wafted up through the open window and a streak of sun stained the hardwood floor between the doorway and Grace's work table. Grace chewed the end of her stubby drawing pencil as she considered the placement of a small potted palm tree in her latest rendering of a four seasons room for one of her best clients.

She knew Will would be here soon to take her to lunch, the vague thought passed through her consciousness that Jack was probably coming soon for Karen. Her stomach growled; she _was_ hungry, but wasn't entirely willing to give up on this latest sketch. She had been working on it all morning after putting it off for days, and she was finally on a roll. Karen had been relatively quiet and the phone had only rang twice, so she was enjoying the long, uninterrupted time she had to finally get some work done.

To her left, the coffee pot sizzled. As she looked over at it, two things happened simulatenously; Will strode through the open door, setting down his brief case on the floor next to Karen's desk, and Karen ran out of the door, her arms wrapped around her doubled-over torso.

"What was that all about?" Will asked, turning back towards Grace after watching Karen run from the room.

"Who knows," Grace answered, turning back to her sketch. "Maybe all those morning martinis are finally catching up to her."

Karen heard their voices as she scurried the four short feet down the hall into the women's restroom, but she wasn't paying any attention to what they were saying. Right now all she could concentrate on was the shooting pain in her lower stomach. It was a familiar feeling - she had been getting fairly intense menstrual cramps since she was 14. They always started the same way, with a solid hour of debilitating pain, then a more tolerable, constant pressure for the next 24 or so hours.

She hurried into a stall and fumbled with the zipper on her skirt, finally pulled it down and perched herself gingerly on the toilet seat. Sure enough, her light pink panties were soaked with blood; she was lucky it hadn't made its way past the fibers of the thin silk yet and onto her skirt. Another sharp pain hit Karen, and she gasped under the sting of her contracting muscles and the realization of what was happening.

She hadn't started her period - that was impossible. She had been pregnant for eight weeks, as of Friday.

Karen closed her eyes, tried to take deep breaths. She had read in a book recently that bleeding during the first trimester was sometimes normal - hadn't she? Or did she make that up? Did it say it _wasn't_ normal? She couldn't remember, couldn't concentrate with her ears ringing and her heart pounding. She threw a hand out against the side of the stall as another sharp pain ripped through her lower stomach. It felt like she figured a contraction must feel like. This couldn't be good.

_Oh God,_ she thought, a hysterical burst of sobs escaping her mouth, _it had to be the stress. _Five weeks ago, she had been delighted to learn that she was finally pregnant. She had worked it up in her mind that she was too old to conceive a child, despite the fact that a lot of women her age had babies. But she had been unsuccessfully trying for so long to get pregnant that she had given up hope. And then, suddenly, the stick was pink instead of blue.

Karen took a quick peek down between her legs into the toilet bowl. The dark red blood was swirling below her, taunting her. She had seen this a million times when it was that time of month, always disgusted at the tissues and substances being expelled by her body, but also intrigued at what it meant; that her body was fully equipped to carry a child. Now the unsightly vision below her meant just the opposite.

When she had told Stanley about the baby - about _their_ baby - she had been so excited. She had Rosario cook them a special dinner, but insisted on serving it to her husband herself. It was just as she had always pictured it would be when she broke the news to her doting husband that they were going to have a baby; the candles were flickering playfully, the red wine in his crystal glass contrasting cleverly with the clear water in hers. She had reached across the corner of the table and placed her hand on his when she felt the time was right.

_"Darling," she breathed, "I have something to tell you."_

_"What is it?" he asked her, and swallowed his mouthful of veal. Karen beamed at him._

_"We're going to have a baby."_

Tears rolled down Karen's cheeks as she wrapped a generous amount of toilet paper around her hand. She shoved it between her legs and stood quickly, pulling up her panties and skirt in a fluid motion so that nothing more could escape into the porcelain bowl below.

_"What?" Stan's face fell, his fork clanked against his glass plate as it fell from his hand. _

_"I'm pregnant," Karen cooed, leaning towards him, her lips searching for a kiss. _

_But he backed away, scooted his chair away from the table so that he was out of her reach. _

_"Karen…" She opened her eyes as he spoke her name, his tone of voice like that of a school teacher's who was about to lecture a student that had failed to complete an assignment. _

_"Aren't you happy?" She was confused. _

_"I…Karen, we…we've talked about this." She set her fork down, folded her arms across her chest. "I don't want any more kids." _

Time seemed to stop as she stood in front of the toilet, looking down into it as the salt of her tears permeated her taste buds_._ She imagined a future of what would have been as she contemplated the blobby red mess, her hand lingering on the flusher. She couldn't leave the bathroom in this shape, but she couldn't bring herself to dispose of what could potentially be her only shot at motherhood.

Grace's head snapped towards the door as Karen re-entered her office. Will quickly stood from her chair but froze when he saw the look on her face.

"Karen, what's wrong?" Grace asked. Karen looked distraught. She had been crying, for sure, and her movements were pained, awkward, as she scooted towards her desk to retrieve her purse. "Where are you going?"

"I've got to get to the hospital," Karen nearly whispered. She hadn't told anyone but Stan and Rosario about her pregnancy, and she certainly didn't want this to be the moment that her two friends found about it, but she couldn't lie about it at this point, either. 

"The hospital? My God, Karen, why?" It was Will's voice now, coming from behind her. She turned her head towards him, his face etched with concern. She had never seen him look so worried about her before. She looked back at Grace, blinked towards her furrowed brow and down-turned mouth.

"I…I think I'm having a miscarriage," she stated. Her matter-of-factness made the little hairs on Grace's arms stand up.

"What?" she asked, her eyes opening wide as she regarded Karen, who flinched now as another cramping sensation flooded her body. "You're pregnant?"

"Yes," Karen whimpered, now clutching her desk for support. Will quickly moved behind her to put his arm around her shoulders awkwardly. "Or at least I was."

Three steps outside the office door, Jack stopped dead in his tracks as he heard Karen's statement, followed by her sobs. From where he was standing, he could only see Grace, white as a ghost as she held her hands over her mouth, staring in the direction of Karen's desk. He hovered in a doorway that was directly adjacent to Grace's corner office.

"Shit," Will whispered, as he looked down at the floor. Several small drops of blood had dotted the floor between Karen's legs. "I'm taking you." He tore off his suit coat, throwing it onto her desk, before scooping her up in his arms. "Grace, call Mercy and tell them we're on our way."

Grace, still in shock at what was transpiring in front of her, didn't say anything but nodded, and reached for the receiver of the phone that sat at the corner of her table.

As Jack heard Will's footsteps drawing closer, he stepped further into the shadow of the dark room he was hiding in. He heard Karen's voice, trembling and meek, and he sucked in his breath.

"Will? Don't tell Jack…please."

"Ok," Will breathed, as their forms moved past the doorway, past Jack hidden by the darkness. He waited until he was sure they were gone before he started breathing again. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. His back to the wall of the unidentified, abandoned room, he slid to the floor, in shock, worried, and trying to make sense of it all.


	16. After All

"You know, that day we met in Grace's office wasn't the first time I had ever seen you," Jack told her, enjoying the feeling of the warmth from her thighs through her skirt as he pressed his cheek against her lap.

"It wasn't?" Karen adjusted her reading glasses on her nose. Soon, she thought, she would need a stronger prescription. She ran her forefinger over the edge of one of the glossy magazine pages in her hands, hiding Jack's face from view below.

"Nope. It was three years before that, on September 25."

Karen snapped the magazine closed, pulled it aside to stare down at Jack. He was laying on his side, his face turned out towards the crackling fire in front of them. She could see the corners of his mouth turning up in a smile as he remembered.

"That was the day I married Stan."

"God, you looked beautiful. For a minute I thought maybe you were a celebrity or something, you were so radiant. Everyone was buzzing around you and Stan as you came out of the church; you were magnetic. I was passing by on the other side of the street, and stopped to watch you drive off in your limo."

Karen stared down at Jack as he spoke, and it was a minute before she realized her mouth was hanging open. She had no idea.

"When we finally met that day in Grace's office, I couldn't believe it was really you," Jack continued.

"You remembered me?"

"Of course." He turned onto his back so that he was looking up at her. Her dark waves tickled his face lightly as she bent over him, her face full of wonder.

"Why?"

"You never did get it, did you?" Karen frowned. "I used to imagine myself arm in arm with you, coming down those steps. In Stan's tux. You had me fascinated, right then and there."

"But you're gay."

"As the day is long! But I figured, if I ever _were_ to get married, you know, like maybe in some alternate universe, I'd want a bride like you."

Karen couldn't help the feeling of pride that was welling up inside her, the blush she felt rising to her cheeks. Jack had always been the one that she wasn't as careful with as she was everyone else - she could _show_ him things and tell him things she would never tell anyone else. She didn't mind the fact that a gloating look was creeping across his face, as he realized he had stirred up a rare emotion in her.

She could've kissed him, right then and there. The feeling had become familiar to her over the past thirty years that they had been in each other's lives. Her coping mechanism had become familiar too, and she bit the inside of her lip as she thought about how she used to that same fantasy - coming down the grandiose stairs outside St. Peter's in her luxurious white wedding gown, arm in arm with the man she was destined to spend the rest of her life with; Jack McFarland.

Jack smiled up at her and nuzzled his nose into the ends of her hair that was falling in front of her face, she placed her right hand on top of his, resting on his stomach.

"God, Jack," she exclaimed, as their skin touched. "Your hands are like ice." He didn't say anything, and she placed her hand on his forehead. "For Pete's sake, you're burning up. Why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well?"

He shrugged, suppressed a clammy shudder.

"I'm just trying to deal with it," he replied, nonchalantly. He searched her worried eyes as she stroked his cheek, ran her hand through his hair. "This is only the beginning."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the microwave started beeping and the furious popping of the paper bag came to a halt, Grace stood carefully from the couch and moved out of Karen's eye line into the kitchen. Karen took this time to switch her posture; her left leg was falling asleep from being crossed over her right knee for so long. Grace's mutterings and bangings-around in the kitchen behind her served as a disparate and decidedly un-graceful soundtrack to the heaviness in the air.

Karen gingerly wiped the inside corner of her eye; she had made it through the explanation of Jack's situation without sobbing this time, as she had done with Will, and again but less so with Rosario. Tonight, as she had recounted to Grace the way Jack had broken the news to her, how he was growing weaker and thinner every day, and how she was trying to deal with it, only a few tears had sprung to her eyes. This time, it was Grace that produced the water works.

"Thanks," Karen muttered as Grace handed her a teal plastic mixing bowl full of lightly buttered popcorn. Grace smiled back. The conversation had come to a crashing halt, and neither one of them really knew how to proceed. "When is Laila due?"

"Oh, in a couple of weeks," Grace replied. Laila and Ben had been married nearly two years now, and they were expecting their first child. As Grace answered Karen, she tried to express the happiness that she felt at the prospect of being a grandma, but this disastrous news about Jack had soured any shred of joy she had been feeling just hours before.

"That's wonderful," Karen replied meekly, looking down into the bowl at the little kernels swimming around together. She wished she could have sounded more sincere, she really was excited for Grace. But lately, as the AIDS began to pick up speed within Jack's body and the physical evidence of its presence became more and more apparent, she had a hard time pulling herself out of the depressed state of her psyche. She tried to be cheerful, for Jack, who seemed unphased by the ravaging of his once strong and vital body, but he could see behind her façade better than anyone.

"Kare," Grace ventured softly, "this isn't your fault, you know. You can't beat yourself up over this. I know it's hard but…"Grace's voice trailed off and she put her popcorn bowl down to take Karen's hand.

"It's just so hard…watching him go through this and not being able to help him or even experience the pain with him - _for_ him, even. I just wish there was something I could do."

"You're doing more than enough," Grace assured her. Suddenly, her eyes lit up, and it was like a light bulb had been turned on in her head. "Actually…I remember a year or so ago, one night at dinner Leo and Ben were discussing a new experimental drug they were testing on HIV patients. Maybe it can help Jack!"

Karen's face lit up and Grace left her to retrieve Ben's office number for Karen. Maybe, just maybe, there was some hope after all.


	17. The Price is Right

Karen ducked her head and tried to look into the glass windows of the coffee shop, obscured by people seated along the windows and the occasional decorative plant. Why she had chosen _this_ coffee shop, the one three blocks from Will and Vince's apartment where they all used to spend their Sunday afternoons and where any one of them could show up at any time, was beyond her. She sighed thinking of her stupidity, but was also relieved to realize that no one she knew was in the shop at the moment.

Well, there was one person.

Ben stood politely as Karen approached the table in the corner, then pulled her chair out for her to sit.

"Thanks for meeting me here," she told him, glancing around nervously, despite the fact that she had just assured herself that no one here would be interested in what was being discussed at their table.

"Sure," he answered. His face was warm and friendly, not unlike his father's. He gestured toward the order counter behind Karen, looked up at the menu that was screwed into the molding near the ceiling. "Do you want something?"

Karen licked her lips and glanced behind her.

"No, no, I'm fine. But thanks, honey," she answered him. She noticed his hands cup around a pale green coffee mug in front of him. Was she late? She looked at her watch. Actually, she was two minutes early.

"I've been here for a little while already," Ben explained, as if reading Karen's mind. He produced a legal pad and black ballpoint pen from beneath the table and placed it in front of Karen. The top page was a flurry of scribblings and equations; all jibberish to Karen. But then Ben flipped the page, and the next, and the next, and a finally came to rest on a mostly blank page, with four neatly printed lines of numbers at the top. They were prices.

"These are all the drugs that are on the market right now for HIV and AIDS patients," Ben explained, using the tip of his pen to point to each item on the list. "Xeripol, Slandrandine, Hexprinol, and Lexvitine."

"And these…work?" Karen asked him, not taking her eyes off of the writing on the page. Ben was silent for a minute, and she finally looked up at him. He was frowning.

"Well…" he bobbed his head from side to side, "yes and no."

"What do you mean?"

"Most of these only lessen the symptoms of whatever virus or bacteria it is that attacks the weakened immune system. So in essence, the attacking virus is still there, the patient just isn't as aware of it. The end result is still the same, and the time frame doesn't change much…the quality of life is just different."

That didn't sound so bad to Karen. She just couldn't bear to watch Jack suffer.

"So which of these is the new experimental one?" Karen asked. Ben's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Apparently his mother-in-law hadn't told him very much about why Karen wanted to meet with him.

"Who told you about that?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper as he leaned forward across the table toward Karen.

"Grace did," she replied, crossing her arms in front of her.

From somewhere on his side of the table, a cell phone rang.

"Excuse me, for a minute," Ben told her, holding up his index finger with one hand and pulling his phone out of his pocket with the other. "This is Dr. Truman," he answered it, turning in his chair as if Karen couldn't hear him if he wasn't facing her.

Karen sighed and leaned back in her chair as Ben chattered in a jargon that was completely foreign to her. His face was tensed and serious, and he fidgeted absent-mindedly with his silk tie. _The apple doesn't fall far from the tree_, Karen thought. For a moment, she felt as though she was back sitting in Will's office, sighing and rolling her eyes at him as he patiently tried to explain legal things to her that she didn't understand and really didn't care to. But this was different. This was a matter of life and death.

Jack didn't even get out of bed this morning. He had good days and bad days, but Karen knew the bad days were slowly edging out the good days. He hardly ever touched his piano anymore, and rarely went outside. Karen laid in his bed every night, pressed a damp cloth against his forehead and sang him the sweet lullabies her mother had always sung to her when she was sick. It felt comfortable and natural to her, being a nurturing force, but it was killing her to watch this disease killing him.

"Sorry," Ben apologized, slipping his phone back into his pocket and turning back towards Karen.

"Let's cut right to the chase, Ben," Karen told him. She wasn't threatening or condescending, she was just worried. Tired and worried. She had to do something _now_. "I can't sit back and watch this destroy Jack. And I need more than just a temporary solution, more than just the illusion that he's ok…he's all I've got. Please."

They looked at each other in silence for a minute. Ben and Karen had been friends for a long time. He thought of her as more of an aunt than just one his dad's friends, in fact. Sometimes, when he was younger, she had stepped in and filled the role of mother for him, even. He knew the intricacies of the relationship she had with Jack, saw the love she had for him in her eyes…the love that would never come to fruition. He suddenly felt bad for Karen, pitied her in a way that she normally would never allow herself to be pitied.

"It's called Thenazedrine," he told her, and she smiled with relief. He was going to help her - help Jack. "We've gotten it to the point where it isn't dangerous anymore, but there are still some side effects we're trying to work out. We've only tried it on lab rats so far, but it's been pretty successful."

"Great," Karen breathed, excited. She was no stranger to experimental drugs. She wasn't worried.

"But Karen…it's going to be expensive."

Karen reached down into her purse, withdrew her hand and slapped down a pile of hundred dollar bills on the table in front of Ben.

"There's five thousand there," she told him. He just stared at it and chuckled, shook his head.

"Karen, $5,000 isn't even a fraction of the _sales tax_ on this stuff. This doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of the price tag on this."

"Oh, honey, I know," Karen smiled at him. "Don't you know by now how much money I have?" She took his hand off of where it was resting on the table and opened it so it was palm up. "This is just your tip," she told him, and placed the stack of bills into his hand and closed his fingers around it. They share a broad smile.

Suddenly, Ben's phone was ringing again, but this time it is a different tone. He quickly slid his phone out of his pocket and pressed it to his hear.

"Hello? Ok…OK! I'll be right there. Love you!"

Karen raised her eyebrows at Ben as he shoved the phone back in his pocket and quickly stood from the table.

"I've got to go…" he starts, ripping the legal pad from under Karen's nose and shoving it into his briefcase. "Laila's in labor."

"Oh my God!" Karen exclaimed, standing to hug him briefly as he stuck the wad of bills she had given him into a zippered compartment on the front of the leather case.

"I'll get those pills over to you as soon as I can," he assured her, leaning down to kiss her cheek. "I'm gonna be a daddy…" he stated, awe and anxiety in his voice and eyes. Karen giggled and kissed him once more before he swiftly headed towards the door. "We'll call you when the baby is here!" he called back to her over his shoulder. And then he was gone.

Karen sat back down at their table and smiled down at her folded hands. Yes, this was a good day.


	18. The Quiet of the Night

**2018**

All night they made love, Jack and him.

Jack had felt stupid when they had snuck in at 12:30, creeping around the darkened penthouse as though they were high schoolers and Karen was Jack's mother, afraid they would wake her and he would be sent home.

And so they held hands, and Jack guided him through the maze of the pitch-black parlor, pressed him silently against the closed kitchen door to kiss him, wrapped his arm around his waist to pull him up the stairs.

When they reached Jack's bedroom he reached for the light switch but changed his mind, pulling his hand out of its midair reach and instead placed it on the small of his lover's back, drawing him in towards his own body.

Moonlight was the only illumination in the room, its gentle light falling across the four poster bed in a sort of bowed rectangle as the lovers tangled themselves before it, swam in it. First a sweater was pulled off, lips found their way from pec to pec, hot and wet against shivering skin.

The belt was the next to go; pulled off in one seamless motion as a hand grasped around its desired target. Rough kisses followed the curvature of a spine. Twin moans escaped strangers' lips.

Denim brushed Jack's knees, grazed his ankles before being discarded from his body altogether. He flexed his feet under the ministrations of his partner, his hands familiarizing themselves with new skin and curves.

And then it was just skin on skin - two filaments of heat and desire brushing and touching and caressing and throbbing. Jack succumbed to the leadership of this other, allowed himself to be turned over so that he was lying face down on the soft sheets. He felt the man hovering over him, and automatically extended his arm towards the top drawer of his mahogany nightstand.

He was surprised to find the little cardboard box empty - he thought he still had one left. Maybe Karen had stolen it for use of her own. Maybe he had miscounted. It didn't matter now; his night was ruined either way.

"Stop," he commanded.

"What?"

"I don't have any condoms."

"Who cares? I'm clean."

Silence. His body was begging to be entered; his heart needed the reassurance that he was desired. So he believed. And he trusted.

After ten minutes, it was over. Jack felt weird, like a machine that had a flaw - it still worked alright, but there was something just a little…_off_ about it.

Ninety-eight minutes later, he rolled over for the last time, sighed into the quiet night air. He reached his left hand out to grasp the hand of the one who had just had him, all of him, but it wasn't there.

"I've got to go."

His voice came from across the room. Jack heard the _whoosh_ of a zipper being pulled up.

"Why?"

Slight hesitation, then:

"I just have to."

"You know you can spend the night; Karen won't throw you out when you come down to breakfast in the morning."

"I really think I had better get going."

"Let me at least walk you out."

Jack slid off the side of the bed and pulled on his boxers as he heard the bedroom door being opened. Why was this guy in such a rush?

Again, they ambled through the house in darkness. Jack wasn't leading this time, he couldn't catch up, and a couple of times he heard a small collision and an utterance of "_shit"_ before they reached the front door.

"Thanks, for everything," Jack cooed, leaning his head against the edge of doorframe. The glow of the fluorescent lights of the hallway bathed them in a grotesque, false illumination. The other man moved uncomfortably, tried a smile that was more like a grimace.

"I'll see you."

And that was that. There was no kiss, no lingering look of longing. Disappointment and wonder crept into Jack's mind as he watched him disappear down the hall, step into the elevator at the end of the corridor. What had happened to make this guy so eager to leave?

Jack was startled to find that the door back into the penthouse had closed behind him in his daze. He tried the knob, only to find it locked. So he stood there, jiggling the knob and gritting his teeth and clenching his sore ass and shivering in the air conditioning. And suddenly, he was crying.

He cried out of frustration for not being able to get back in. He cried about the way that man had just treated him, like he didn't matter. He cried for Rosario, who could have let him in right now if only she hadn't been spending this weekend with her daughter in Queens. He cried for Karen, for the baby she'd never have. He cried for Will and Grace, whose friendship had dwindled to the point that they didn't even see each other on holidays. And he cried for reasons as yet unknown to him; for the future, for his aging body, for his hopeless habit of jumping from guy to guy without ever attaching to them any emotion, anything real.

And then Karen was in front of him, standing in the doorway, shock and confusion written all over her sleepy face. And she pulled him in from the disgusting green-white light, into the warmth of their home, and she turned on the light and it was once again his sanctuary.

She hugged him, she wrapped him up in her arms, but she didn't ask why. She didn't ask why he was crying or what he was doing out in the hallway, all alone, in his underwear. She only said "I love you, I love you Jack."

Nothing seemed wrong in the world when his hands stopped trembling and he used them to tilt her face up to his and he kissed her lips. And she let him; they both knew it was wrong but so, so right at the same time, and there was nothing either of them could do to stop it. So they kissed. It wasn't like the kisses he had shared with the man earlier, it was soft, and sweet, and loving, and gentle. And real. It was real.

He must have been tired, because as he closed his eyes and let her breath mix with his, his mind began to wander into dreams. He pictured them laying together in warm sand, talking and laughing, saw them spinning cotton candy on Coney Island, and heard Karen's voice singing sweetly in his ear. It was like they were one consciousness, she and him. So alike that they were the same, they were one in a perfect world. There was nothing sexual or lustful about it, but a warmth and peace filled his heart and he sighed into her mouth.

They slowly broke apart and he looked down at her sweet, porcelain face. Her eyes were still closed as though she, too, felt like she was in a dream and she didn't want to wake up from it. When her eyelids finally did flutter open, he swam in the golden-brown pools of her irises, and he knew. He suddenly knew what true, pure, untainted love felt like.


	19. It's Not Over Yet

The soapy water bubbled up against her skin, its heat drawing rosiness out of her usually snow-white flesh. She had pushed her sleeves all the way up to her elbows, just to be sure, before beginning the routine of scrubbing and sanitizing that had become the norm every time she re-entered the manse. When the water ran cold, she turned it off and toweled off her hands and forearms on the striped tea towel next to the mirror.

As she did so, she caught her reflection. It had been awhile since she had looked at herself, _really_ looked at herself, and she immediately regretted it. There were circles under her eyes, probably due to the nights she lay awake worrying about Jack. Her gray roots were beginning to become noticeable since she hadn't been to the salon in so long. Everything had taken a backseat for Jack, and surprisingly, she was fine with that. She looked horrible and felt haggard, but for the first time in her life, she felt a strange peace with herself and her life. The household had developed a strange sense of normalcy, like their daily routines which revolved around Jack's incapacities were the way things were supposed to be. And she had to admit to herself that she was enjoying the feeling of being needed. Jack was almost totally dependent on her, and she was more than happy to be taking care of him. The strong bond their already shared was deepening and it was as though she were meant to be doing this for him.

She sighed and smiled at herself in the mirror, ran a hand through her hair before heading up the stairs into Jack's bedroom.

He was sitting up in his bed, reading a small paperback novel through his half-moon glasses. He looked up and smiled at her when she knocked lightly on the doorframe.

Returning his smile, she went and sat at the foot of the bed, smoothing the satin comforter next to her.

"So?" Jack asked, retrieving the bookmark next to him and placing it between the pages of the novel as he closed it and focused all of his attention on Karen.

"He's beautiful."

"I wish I could've gone."

"I know, honey, me too. They're going to bring him over here as soon as they can."

"Good. Hey, you never told me what they named him."

Karen looked down at her hands.

"Jack," she told him softly, "They named him Jack."

She heard him gasp slightly and she looked back at his face, pale and pinched as it was. She was expecting a bright smile, perhaps a glistening in the corner of his eyes, but what she got was a frown. It was a moment before he spoke.

"Did you tell them?"

His tone wasn't angry or accusatory, but matter-of-fact. Karen felt her heart beating through her chest. She knew this was going to happen eventually, but she didn't think that now, after telling him that his best friends' kids had named their son after him would be the time.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "But how could I not, Jackie?"

Jack didn't respond immediately, but brought both hands to his face and rubbed his eyes as a long groan escaped his lips.

"I should never have put all this pressure on you."

"What? Jack - you couldn't have gone through this alone. Besides, you couldn't have hid this." She gestured at the various medical paraphernalia that had accumulated in the corner of the room; humidifier, Kleenex boxes, blood pressure machine. Jack just shook his head.

"Kare," he said, taking her hand in his, "wasn't it enough that I've made you suffer through this? Why them, too?"

He looked tired, and sad. Karen couldn't stand him being sad.

"I'm not suffering, Poodle," she grabbed his chin in her hand and leveled his eyes to hers. "I love taking care of you. There is _nothing_ I'd rather be doing. Besides, you shouldn't feel like you have to be brave for me," her hand moved to his cheek, her thumb gently stroking it as he nuzzled her palm. "It's OK to be scared, Jack."

Jack had grown up a lot during the years they had spent living together, but for a moment, he became the man he was when they had first become friends, and his eyes grew wide, and his lip quivered.

"Good," he whispered, "because I am."

Karen pulled him into an immediate hug, feeling his chest rise and fall with hers as they breathed together, each of them trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall.

"I almost forgot!" Karen suddenly exclaimed, pulling back from their embrace. With her thumb she wiped a tear from under Jack's eye and with her other hand pulled a tiny plastic baggie out of her cleavage. She smiled mischievously as she dangled it in front of his face like a carrot.

Jack squinted at the bag and studied the tiny pills that were inside.

"Karen! You know I don't do drugs."

"No, honey!" she laughed. "These are _pills_. Ben gave them to me - they're for AIDS patients and they're not even on the market yet." She put the bag into his open hand and closed hers around it. Her face was suddenly serious. "These might actually work, Jack."

Their eyes met, and in Jack's was something Karen hadn't seen for months: hope.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Karen pulled the black veil back so that she could get a better look at the scene. She was standing in a crowd of people, all dressed in black and shades of navy and dark purple; some of them looked like circus performers. A spotlight was on the middle of the room, where several of the other people were crowded around something that was apparently on the floor, as they were all looking down.

She pushed her way to the front to get a better look at the thing on the ground, when suddenly the spotlight went out and the lights came up, and Karen saw that she wasn't in a room at all, she was outside, standing on a grassy hill. She elbowed through the crowd, their blank faces and stage makeup giving her an uneasy feeling.

When she got to the middle of the group, she saw what they had all been looking at; an empty grave was at her feet, and someone from the crowd had to grab her arm to ensure that she didn't fall in. There was a tombstone with nothing on it at the head of the grave, and as she studied it, she noticed Will and Grace standing just on the other side of it, also looking down into the empty grave with no expression on their faces.

And then, the crowd started dispersing. The strangers started walking away, and when Karen looked back at them, Will and Grace had disappeared also. When they had all gone, and she was standing in the cemetery all alone, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned, and there was Jack, smiling at her.

He was 30 years old, and she was suddenly self-conscious. Confused, she looked back at the grave, but Jack turned her back towards him and gave her the biggest smile.

"It's not over yet," he told her, and offered her his arm. This made perfect sense to her, and she took his arm.

Then the scene changed, and they were panting each other's names in a darkened bed, their naked bodies fused with desire. Jack rolled off of her, but her orgasm kept coursing through her body, making its way to her heart until she felt so full of pleasure and joy, she thought she was going to burst.

Jack leaned on his elbow next to her and reached down to tuck her hair behind her ear as she regained her composure. He bent his head down and kissed between her breasts.

"I love you," he whispered, laying back down next to her and wrapping his arm around her stomach. He pulled her close. "I love you."

Karen stirred in her sleep as she felt a body pressed against hers, an arm tightly hugging her waist. Or was she still dreaming this?

"I love you too, Jack."

In her dream this was full voice, and she was rewarded with a series of kisses down her naked shoulder blade. In real life, it was a mumble, but Jack didn't miss it as he cemented himself next to her in her bed. He loved watching her sleep, and he loved knowing she was dreaming about him. He nuzzled his face into her hair, and soon they were dreaming together.


	20. September 25, 1995

**September 25, 1995**

As the glass double doors closed behind him, Jack paused for a moment on the sidewalk and took a deep breath. His chest was tight and his palms were sweaty, but he wasn't shaken by it. He was used to this feeling - failure - and another crap audition wasn't going to bring him down. At least, that's what he tried to tell himself.

Although it was still September, there was a fall chill in the air, and Jack breathed in the scent of crisp fall leaves as he strolled past Central Park. Kids were running and playing, enjoying their Saturday afternoon off from school, and parents with strollers and dogs on leashes lingered close by.

Jack wasn't really sure where he was going; maybe to Will's office, maybe to Rory's apartment. He battled with the decision to tell anyone about this latest audition or not. All of this was just getting to be too much for him. He knew that at some point he was going to have to grow up and start acting like an adult, get a real job and pay his own bills, but he wasn't ready to give up on his dream yet.

The truth was, being an actor was appealing to Jack for a variety of complex reasons. Sure, he was a fame whore who dreamt about living the glamorous lifestyle of a successful celebrity entertainer, but it was more than that. As comfortable as he was with himself, acting afforded him the chance to step outside of himself for a little while and be somebody else. Maybe somebody who had a committed, loving partner, a best friend he wasn't green with envy of, or someone who had a _real _relationship with his father. Sometimes, he felt like he could make up for all of his shortcomings by pretending to be someone else.

He had lost track of how far he had walked; suddenly he was just a block south of St. Patrick's Cathedral. He was on the other side of the street from the massive Gothic-style church, and immediately noticed that a large crowd had gathered on the steps out front. Women in long dresses and elaborate hats and men in tuxedos with glistening cufflinks lined the sidewalk where a black stretch limousine waited.

Jack figured this must be a wedding letting out of the church; it was a popular spot for Saturday afternoon ceremonies. He recognized that it must be someone important or rich getting married, based on the sheer number of wedding guests and the fact that there were even a few photographers in the crowd. He couldn't tell if they were from the papers or if they were paparazzi, but he was certain they couldn't _all_ be wedding photographers - there were easily three of four of them, cameras poised to catch the new couple descending the stairs as husband and wife for the first time.

Jack's pace slowed as he passed by the church, only a few lanes of traffic separating him from all the commotion. If it was a celebrity that was about to come out of that church, he sure as hell wasn't going to miss it. He racked his brain trying to remember if he had read about any high-profile couples in the gossip and entertainment magazines that were getting married this weekend.

He decided to scan the crowd of guests for any other celebrities. He didn't see any that he recognized, but his eyes came to rest on two children, looking very uncomfortable and out of place, standing at the head of the limo. The little boy looked to be about four years old, with a round face and a plump physique. He was seated on the hood of the limo, playing patty cake with a girl of about seven who was standing in front of him. The girl had shiny red ringlets of hair and a pretty face. It appeared as though they were unattended, but surely they belonged to someone in the wedding party, as both were outfitted for such an occasion. While everyone else was craning to watch the double doors of the church open or adjusting the lenses of their personal cameras, these two seemed as though they could have cared less about what was going on.

A gasp went up from the crowd, and Jack's head snapped back up towards the doors with the rest of the crowd. Applause and cheers erupted from the guests as a tall, rotund man stepped out onto the platform at the top of the stairs. He looked to be in his early 50s, with his hair thinning and sagging neck skin wrinkling beneath his broad smile. Jack wasn't sure who he was at first, but realized that he must be the groom when a wedding-dress clad woman appeared next to him.

Flashbulbs went off as the bride joined her husband and they stood arm in arm to pose briefly for pictures at the top of the stairs. Jack watched the crowd laugh and applaud, the two children by the limo still looking dazzlingly uninterested.

And suddenly, he heard her laugh. A high-pitched, tinkling sound of genuine happiness and joy, emanating from the bride on the stairs. Jack hadn't paid very close attention to her before, after checking to be sure it wasn't a celebrity, but as she laughed while her new husband was bent over whispering something in her ear, he suddenly found himself mesmerized by her.

She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She would not, perhaps, be recognized as an obvious classic beauty by the general population, but there was no denying the femininity of her features, the grace of her movements, her unexplainable magnetism. Her smile was dazzling, perfectly framed by her full red lips, and her pale skin looked like creamy porcelain against her pinned-back chocolate hair and ivory silk dress.

While not altogether surprised by this feeling of extreme fascination with this woman, Jack was unfamiliar with the strength it hit him. Sure, there were many beautiful women he admired and he delighted in being able to appreciate their fabulous wardrobes and cool, confident mannerisms, but he had never felt this way about one before. She looked so happy, and he looked happy with her, like he knew that he was marrying a gem. But Jack was sure that this dopey-looking man would never be able to appreciate this sparkling woman to her full potential; for some unexplainable reason, he had a gut feeling that maybe - just maybe - he was the only man that was meant to love and cherish this woman. Have sex with her? No. Understand and appreciate her as a human being? Definitely yes. And for a moment, as his fascination overtook him, all of his previous worries and stresses melted away and he, too, felt genuinely happy.

The couple began to move slowly down the stairs, hand in hand. They paused briefly along the way to kiss the cheek of a wedding guest or shake the hand of an onlooker, and as they did so they were pelted with red rose petals by those lining the sidewalk. When they finally made it to the limo, the groom broke his grip on his bride and bent down in front of the two children. They embraced him, the little girl planting a kiss on his cheek, as the bride watched from a few feet away. She smiled at them, but seemed apprehensive when it was her turn to greet them. As they reluctantly embraced her hips and knees, she patted their heads awkwardly, finally squatting lower to place a small kiss on each of their cheeks.

And then, she was looking at Jack. Her smile dissolved as they locked eyes, confused about why this stranger was staring at her so intently from the other side of the street. Their shared glance lasted only a few seconds, but to Jack, it felt like weeks. When she finally looked away and disappeared into the limo behind her husband, he felt a flush rise in his cheeks as he realized how creepy he must have looked.

Embarrassed, and perfectly aware that just because he couldn't see her anymore through the tinted windows of the limo didn't mean she couldn't see him, Jack continued down the sidewalk. He watched the limo pull out into traffic out of the corner of his eye, and turned his head over his shoulder to watch it speed away in the opposite direction he was walking. He sighed and shook his head, thinking how stupid it was for him to think that he would ever see that woman again, not knowing that not only would he see her again, but that she would become his best friend in the entire world in just a few short years. In less than 10 years, he would even see her as a bride once again.

Jack quickened his pace as he tried to forget about her and decide if he should stop by Will's office or not. He took a few deep breaths, enjoying the cool fall air in his nostrils, not really wanting to have to endure the confines of his friend's small and dark law office. And try as he did, he couldn't get the image of the bride's bright and lovely face out of his head for the rest of the day.

Jack had his first sex dream about a woman that night.


	21. Colorblind

Jack sighed as he remembered back to the day he first laid eyes on Karen. Stretched out on his bed, with his hands behind his head and his eyes closed, to anyone observing him it would've looked like he was napping. Truth was, he _was_ a little bit tired, but he was only taking a rest; the night wasn't over quite yet.

It was Karen's birthday, and Jack had planned an elegant and elaborate evening for them to celebrate. They had gone out to dinner with Will and Grace at Balthazar's, just like old times, then he and Karen had stopped for ice cream in Columbus Circle. They had sat on the edge of the fountain, Jack wrapping his arm around Karen's shivering shoulders as they enjoyed their icy treat that was just a smidge too cold for the fall evening.

Nothing could've brought them down tonight, though - it was the first night in months that Jack had spent the entire evening out, and it had gone perfectly. He had been taking the pills Ben had given Karen for almost six months, and so far they seemed to be helping. For weeks Jack and Rosario had been planning Karen's birthday surprise, and it had all paid off. He wouldn't trade anything in the world for the look on her face when he had knocked on her bedroom door, dressed in his best slacks and button up with a dozen red roses in his hand, inviting her on their evening out.

Now they were back in the penthouse, and he had instructed Karen to change into her night clothes. He had quickly changed into his wine-colored silk pajamas, a nervous excitement building in his stomach for the final part of their evening.

There was a soft knock on the door, and then Karen peeked her head in as Jack sat up.

"Come in," he instructed her, patting the spot next to him on the bed where he wanted her to sit. She did, and he reached a hand up to pull the clip out of her hair that was holding it pinned pristinely in place. The rest of the evening had been fancy and proper, but they were home now, and he wanted to finish everything out comfortably and relaxed.

She cocked her head to the side and looked at him questioningly as her long, dark hair fell around her shoulders, gently kissing the straps of her black negligee. He just smiled back and stroked her cheek. He noticed, for the first time, that she was looking old. And he loved it.

"Thanks, honey," she told him softly, "…for tonight. It was the best birthday."

"No, Kare, thank _you,_" he replied, dropping his hand from her cheek to her knee. "I…I can't tell you how much it means to me, everything you've done…" his words trailed off as his voice broke, and he finished his sentiment with a bleary-eyed smile. They didn't talk about their circumstances often, and Jack found it hard to. He would never be able to thank Karen enough for the way she was caring for him and devoting her life to him. Just thinking about it moved him.

Karen didn't respond, just took his hand in hers and kissed the back of it, squeezing it tightly.

"Do you want to sleep in my bed tonight?" she asked him sweetly.

"Yeah," he responded. "But your birthday isn't over yet - I've got one more thing for you."

He stood from the bed, grabbing both of her hands to help her stand. She looked up at him, into his eyes, her own full of wonder and curiosity.

Jack led Karen down the hall and around the corner, and stopped in front of a closed door. This door used to lead to the nursery they had set up for Katie, Elliot's daughter, after she had been born and would spend some weekends with Jack and Karen. It had housed all of the nursery furniture of what Jack had once known as the "Forbidden Room" in Karen and Stan's manse - the nursery that Karen had assembled when she had first become pregnant, all those years ago. For awhile, that room had been the habitat for Ben and Laila when their parents had needed a night alone, just as this room had been for Katie. When she had turned three, however, and graduated to a big girl bed in the guest bedroom down the hall, this nursery had been abandoned and forgotten about, until recently.

"Close your eyes," Jack instructed, as they stood outside of the closed door. Karen rolled her eyes, but obliged, and Jack pushed the door open and led her inside the room.

Karen heard Jack flip the light switch, and when he allowed her to open her eyes, found herself surrounded by books. Bookshelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling, and in the middle of the room was a lovely little chaise lounge with an antiquated cocktail table and beautiful reading lamp. The one big window in the room was draped with blood-red velour curtains, thick enough to keep any sunlight out if so desired.

"Your own, personal library," Jack announced. He beamed at her, obviously pleased with her awe-struck response to his efforts.

Karen ran her hand along the spine of a row of books as she slowly walked around the room, noticing how he had taken the time to alphabetize all of her novels and categorize them into genre.

"Jack…this - this is so thoughtful," she breathed, finally turning back towards him, as he stood in front of the chaise lounge and watched her enjoying her birthday present. "Thank you." She rushed into his arms, throwing hers around him in a tight embrace.

They stayed like that for a moment, and Karen closed her eyes, breathing in his scent and letting his hands gently caress her bare back. She pulled away from him slowly, and looked up at his face to find him gazing back down at her, the smile gone from his face, and a serene, intense look in its place. And then, very slowly, and very gently, he bent his face down to hers, and kissed her lips.

"Karen," Jack whispered her name when their lips broke, "sit down." He took hold of her elbow, their arms still wrapped around each other, and sat them down on the plush lounger behind them.

"What is it?" she asked him, suddenly worried by his seriousness amidst their tender moment.

Jack smiled at her concern, and twisted his fingers around hers.

"Let's get married."

Karen let out a hearty laugh, her eyebrows pulled so high up in surprise that Jack thought they might jump off of her face. Jack flashed back to the first time he heard her laugh all those years ago after her wedding to Stanley.

"What?" Her voice was incredulous with disbelief.

"Yeah, you know," he began, smiling as he explained. "We've been living together for almost 30 years, neither of us have been with anyone in ages…" he shrugged. "And I love you, Kare, and I want to make sure that you get everything, you know, when…" his voice trailed off, and Karen frowned at him.

"But Jack…"

"It wouldn't have to be a whole big production or anything…I was thinking just something really simple, maybe on the rooftop with just a few people."

"Wouldn't that make it so weird though? Having those titles…everything that goes with it? It's not exactly conventional…"

"Would you call _this_ conventional?" Jack asked, motioning in a way to indicate their situation, their current living arrangement.

"No, I guess not."

"Weirder things have happened."

Karen bit her lip and pretending to smooth the fabric of her nightgown. She couldn't deny that this was something she had only dreamt about until now. Her only reservation was in the fact that she knew getting married to Jack would mean something completely different than it ever would to him.

"What if we didn't have a wedding," Jack suggested, sensing her hesitation. "What if it was more of a…commitment ceremony? We're committed, right? - We're a little old to be having a big white wedding anyway…then it wouldn't be as big of a deal. We don't even need rings or anything."

"I don't know…"

Jack lowered his head to place his face in her eye line and found her eyes, and a shy smile.

"Come on, Kare," he whispered, pulling her close to kiss her neck playfully. "Consider it…my dying wish," he breathed into her ear, suddenly much more serious. Karen closed her eyes, soaking up the bittersweet moment and replaying the promise she had made to him that he could spend whatever time he had left however he wanted, and she would be right there by his side for all of it.

"Oh, ok!" she giggled, as his tongue teased her earlobe. "Yes! I do! …or whatever."

Jack threw his arms around her and squeezed her tightly.

"Thank you."

She grinned and pecked his lips, stood to lead them out of the library. She had had enough excitement for one night. But before she could go anywhere, Jack grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down next to him.

Their faces lingered, centimeters apart, as he pushed her hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear, her eyes never leaving his lips. Karen closed her eyes as their bodies were drawn together, and slowly, quietly, she felt the soft skin of his lips on hers.

This kiss was not as chaste, and soon Jack's tongue was begging entrance to Karen's mouth. She obliged, using her hand on the back of his neck to draw them closer together. His hand ran up her thigh and she moaned in his mouth. It had been so long since she had been touched like that. Karen didn't know if he was doing this because he genuinely wanted to or because he felt like it was the only way to show her how much she meant to him - that he would put aside even his own repulsion at any trace of heterosexuality for her - but she didn't care.

Jack's fingertips tingled where he traced the curves of Karen's body, as their hot breath continued to mix in their locked mouths. He was overcome with a savage desire for her deflowering, if nothing else than just to show that she belonged to him. The connection he felt to her, his now almost-wife, his best friend, was stronger than anything he had ever felt before. And he wanted her to feel good; he wanted to please her. In that moment, all of the restraints of "who he was" and his "sexual orientation" simply dissolved; male or female, it didn't matter. What only mattered was the way he felt about her. It was like he was colorblind.

He slid the strap of her negligee down her shoulder slowly, following its curved path down her arm with his palm, and then with his lips. Karen ran her hands under his pajama shirt, the cold silk on the back of her hands contrasting sharply with the heat emanating from his skin. As he kissed between her breasts and back up her jaw line, her chest rose and fell heavily as she became more and more aroused.

"Jack," she moaned, pulling his hands off of her and taking them in her own. He pulled away from her skin and searched her eyes, wondering why she had stopped him. "Let's just go to bed." Her voice was resigned, and Jack sighed. The mood was killed, but they both knew it couldn't go any further, for several reasons.

Karen fell asleep curled up in Jack's arms that night, dreaming about becoming his wife and thinking about what could have happened in the library earlier if she hadn't stopped them. If only, if only.


	22. Lipstick and Lust

**2006**

Jack grabbed a fistful of Karen's silky hair and tugged her head back, allowing him access to her pale soft throat. His kisses were rough and forceful, and she bit her lip in frustration as his other hand teased between her legs. Her hands were thrown out from her sides, clenching and releasing the satin sheets that their bodies were tangled in.

Her red lipstick was smeared across her mouth and along Jack's ear, neck and chest. His white collared shirt hung open as he hovered over her, his pants discarded in a rumpled heap on the floor next to the bed.

Her sexual frustration was transformed into raw aggression as she overpowered him and flipped them, his back now pressed into the mattress instead of hers. She straddled him and ground her hips on top of his pelvis, the thin silk of her thong and the soft cotton of his boxers serving as the only barrier between their bare skin. Her fingernails tickled his skin as she pushed his shirt off of his shoulders and he raised himself off the bed slightly to allow her to remove it completely from his body and toss it aside.

She leaned down and placed a cluster of kisses on his stomach, and Jack took the opportunity to gently push her head further down to where his erection throbbed. As she gripped the elastic of his boxers with her teeth, she raised her eyes to him and pulled them off of his body. Soon her lips had fully encircled his shaft, leaving a faint red lipstick imprint on his skin while he ran a hand through her hair, his head tossed back onto the pillow in ecstasy.

Karen worked her magic on Jack for a few minutes before crawling back up to his side to kiss him gently, then kissed away the sweat that had formed around his hairline as he regained his composure. He put her on her back again and began to move over her.

Karen sighed heavily and twisted her hips in pleasurable agony as Jack spread her legs and kissed down her stomach. He was soon hovering back over her lips, however, after removing her thong, and she kissed him fiercely as he ran his hands over her ribcage.

"Fuck me, Jack," she sighed into his ear. "Hard."

Jack pulled Karen up, supporting the weight of her torso with his hands on her lower back as he continued to kiss her, then prompted her to roll over onto her stomach. She did, and he pulled her hips up to him so that she was on all fours in front of him as he knelt behind her on the bed. Karen gasped as she felt him enter her, his hands firmly gripping the front of her hips to pull her as far onto him as possible.

He started out slowly, bending over her to bite and snap the straps of her black lacy bra as she moaned beneath him, her dark hair swinging in front of her. In and out, in and out. Over and over he backed out of her, only to slam her willing body back towards him with each thrust.

"Oh GOD Jack!" she yelled, feeling her orgasm building.

"Not yet, Karen," he panted, "not yet!"

Wrapping his arms all the way around her waist while keeping their connection, he sat back on his feet and pulled her on top of him so that she was now seated on top of him. Her legs were spread wide, each of her knees on the outside of his thighs. She reached behind her and wrapped an arm around his neck, turning her head to kiss him as she raised and lowered herself on top of him. His right hand found her clit and rubbed furiously, his left hand entwined with hers, resting on her stomach.

Too concentrated on the feelings of pleasure coursing through their connection, her mouth broke from Jack's and she closed her eyes and rolled her head back onto his shoulder. He kissed her neck as she moaned.

Tiny, high-pitched cries began escaping Karen in rapid succession, and Jack knew she was close. He amped up his own thrusts and worked tirelessly with his hand between her legs. He felt his own orgasm building, and gritted his teeth as he finished her off.

Within seconds they both were yelling in ecstasy, their moans and exclamations of each others' names filling the quiet house.

They had found themselves in this position after a pitcher of sangria and hours of laughter and conversation. Stan had moved out of the manse weeks ago, the divorce proceedings finally underway. Grace had given birth to her baby girl this morning, and despite her sadness, Karen had suggested to Jack that it was a good reason to spend the night celebrating, just the two of them.

They threw themselves back onto the head of the bead, recovering on the plush pillows, with the sheets wrapped around their sweaty yet satisfied bodies. And now, sobered up by the simple passage of time and the amazing experience just shared with Jack, Karen's mind was running wild with questions.

She rolled onto her side to face Jack, whose eyes were closed above a boyish grin on his mouth. Leaning up on her elbow to rest her head on her fist, she sighed.

"Jack?"

"Mmm?"

"Why'd you do that for me?"

He opened his eyes and turned his head on its pillow to look at her.

"What are you talking about? That was just as much for me as it was for you."

"Yeah, but…you couldn't possibly have _enjoyed_ it, right? I mean, I'm not exactly your…most desired partner." Jack shrugged. "You've never been able to do it with a woman before."

"Well, you're not most women, Kare…" the thought was complete, but she could tell by the way he was looking at her that there was more to it than that.

"And?"

"And…" he hesitated, and reached for her hand below the covers to twist their fingers together. "I want to give you a baby."

Karen's eyebrows shot up in surprise. She stammered for a moment, caught completely off guard. Jack just watched her, allowing her to compose her thoughts and enjoying her shock. He had always loved surprising her.

"Jack, I…I-I don't know what to say," she caressed his cheek with the back of her hand. "That's very sweet of you, but I would never expect you to…to father my child. That's just too big of a deal, Poodle."

"But I _want_ to, Kare. I've been thinking about it ever since I found out what you were hiding in that room. I know what I'm getting into, and I want to be able to do this for you," he kissed her hand. "For _us."_

"Wouldn't that make us just like Will and Grace, though? Do we really want to end up like them?"

"It wouldn't be such a bad thing. I think if they were serious about it, maybe we should be too."

Karen was genuinely moved and appreciative of what Jack was suggesting, and she didn't have the heart to tell him that it was too late for her. She hadn't gotten pregnant since her miscarriage seven years before, despite her desperate attempts to with Stan. She was almost out of the child-bearing age period and had abused drugs and alcohol for years. It just wasn't very likely that she would become pregnant from this one tryst.

Instead, she just leaned in and kissed his forehead, then his cheek, then his lips.

"Thank you," she whispered. He sighed contentedly, and blushed slightly as he tugged on the cup of Karen's bra to make sure she was fully covered. They laughed, and she cuddled into the crook of his arm.

Karen was surprised when they made love twice more that night, trying out a different position each time, and even more surprised when three weeks later, she found out that she was pregnant.


	23. Human

Reclined on the purple velvet of the chaise lounge in her library, Karen looked up from her book and paused to reflect on the sentence she just read. The sun streaked in through the blinds behind her, casting a warm yellow glow across the hardwood floor. Karen's black framed reading glasses were perched on her nose, her hair piled high in a messy pinning on top of her head.

Karen smiled as she heard the sound of Jack's piano permeating the ceiling above her. She closed her eyes and pictured him in the room above her, his head bowed in concentration as the notes overtook him, his fingers flying across the ivory keys.

The last few weeks with Jack had been wonderful. He was feeling better, they were making wedding plans (although she was hesitant to call them that, she didn't want too big of a fuss made over their pending nuptials), and everything had been at peace inside the penthouse.

The clock on the wall opposite her ticked away steadily as the afternoon drowsily marched on. Song after song reached Karen's ears from upstairs, and the pages of her book were flying. She lifted the martini from the table next to her and took a sip. As she did, the house suddenly became quiet. The piano music from upstairs came to an abrupt halt.

A loud thud resounded above her, and she instinctively looked up toward the ceiling, although she obviously couldn't see through it to what had made such a loud sound in Jack's piano room. Worried, she set her drink back on the table and listened for whatever sound was bound to come next, hoping it would be the piano starting up again.

But to her horror, it was the sound of Rosario's voice, frantically calling her name.

"Miss Karen, Miss Karen! Come quick!"

Karen leapt up from the couch, throwing her book aside. Her heart was pounding in her chest as adrenaline rushed through her body, and because she stood up too quickly, everything become hazy for a moment and her vision went black.

She threw her hand out in front of her and caught the door frame, caught her breath and let her head get the blood flow it needed before she turned the corner and dashed up the stairs.

When she got to the door of the room, her stomach sank to the pit of her torso. Rosario was crouched next to the piano, her back to Karen, her arms wrapped around Jack, who was limp on the floor.

"Oh my God," Karen breathed, rushing to Rosie's side and grabbing one of Jack's hands. It was cold.

"He's out cold!" Rosario cried, panic in her voice. She was supporting his head and shoulders with one arm as she lightly slapped his cheek with her other hand, hoping to bring him around. His eyelids were open slightly, and Karen could see that his eyes were rolled back in his head. She immediately pressed her ear to his chest, listening for a heartbeat. It was there - weak and distant, but he was still alive.

"I'm calling 911," she told Rosario, running for the phone in the corner.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Yeah, Karen called and told me today," Grace spoke into the phone. She pulled her legs up under her on the couch, traced the pattern of the brocade flowers with her fingernail.

"I just can't believe it," Will sighed in reply.

"All I can say is: 'FINALLY'," Grace exclaimed, throwing in a giggle and a snort for good measure.

"What do you mean, 'finally'?" Will asked, scrunching up his face as he pulled out the footrest of the recliner.

"Well, I mean…come on," Grace answered. "They were kind of made for each other, dontchya think?"

"I don't know…a lot of people said that about us but we never ran off and got _married_!"

"Yeah, but Will, we were always actively trying to find love. Karen and Jack stopped that search once they moved in with each other. I think that's pretty telling."

"That's not true, they both kept dating for awhile."

"Oh, sure, they both had their flings, but neither of them have been in a serious relationship in years."

"I just think it's a little…weird."

"Yeah, but think about who we're talking about."

Will chuckled.

"I guess you're right," he sighed. "Just as long as they're happy."

"All I know is, I haven't seen Karen as happy as she was when she told me about it in a looooong time."

"They're practically married already, now that I think about it."

"Mmhmm. I think it's sweet…you know, considering…their - circumstances, and everything."

Will paused, and they both reflected on the struggle Jack had been dealing with for the past couple of years.

"He seems to be doing better, though. Maybe this will be an upswing for him…a new little family and a new page in his - condition." Will said the word reluctantly, with some difficulty like it didn't quite want to come out. Of the four of them, he was having the hardest time dealing with the reality that Jack's journey on this earth was coming to an end.

"Yeah, maybe…" Grace agreed, her mind distant in the romance of Jack and Karen's situation. Her phone beeped twice in her ear. "Hey, can you hold on for a second? I have another call."

"Sure."

Will flipped through the channels while he waited for Grace's return, turning his head over his shoulder to watch Vince making them dinner in the kitchen. He smiled, thinking they were all finally getting what they had been wanting out of life: love and companionship.

"Sorry," Grace restarted their conversation. Her voice was troubled.

"Who was that?"

"Karen…they're at the hospital," Grace's voice was meek and disbelieving.

"Oh my God, why? Is everything OK?"

"I don't know, she just asked me to meet her there. It's Jack."

"Are they at Mercy?"

"Mt. Sinai."

"I'll see you there."


	24. The Second Time Around

**2006**

The first time it had happened, Karen was sad. The second time it happened, she was devastated.

She shouldn't have been surprised; nothing about the situation would have led one to believe that she could've actually carried a baby to term. She was almost 48, she was going through a divorce, two of her best friends were in the fight of a lifetime so her stress was insurmountable - all of the odds were against that little embryo that had nested in her aging uterus. And the odds had beaten it.

Upon their return to Karen's manse from the hospital, Jack carried her up the stairs and laid her on her bed, tucking her in under the heavy duvet and turning out the light. She didn't cry or complain, didn't express any discomfort, but it was painfully obvious how hard she was taking this. It was like the light had gone out of her eyes.

Jack crawled under the covers and snuggled up to her, but she was unresponsive. He draped his arm across her waist, but she barely moved beneath his touch.

"Kare?"

"I want to be alone."

"But, Karen-"

"I want to be alone."

Jack knew when to stop pushing her, so he kissed her cheek before sliding out of the bed and leaving the room. He didn't go home right away, but stayed in the library down the hall for a few hours should she need him.

Seated on the love seat across from the fireplace, he took his face in his hands and rubbed his tired eyes, replaying recent events in his mind.

When Karen had told him that she was pregnant - with _their_ baby, it was like nothing he had ever felt before. A big part of him was ecstatic and beyond thrilled that his plan had worked. He had rarely seen Karen as happy as when she came back from the doctor's office that day, and for a few weeks, it seemed as though things were going to work out.

But then there was the part of him that had to face the reality that once this baby was born, his life as a social gay man was over. He would be tied to Karen and this child forever, which was something he wanted, but also something that would cause a drastic change in the way he was leading his life. There would be no more serial dating, no more sneaking in and out in the middle of the night. Karen and this baby would have to become the focus of his life instead of his own self interest - an adjustment he wasn't quite sure he was ready to make.

Nothing seemed real when he found Karen in her bed that day, barely awake but already sobbing. He had thrown back the covers to find her lying in a pool of blood, and the events that transpired played out as though he were in a hazy dream, some false storefront of reality.

Now that it was all over, it seemed as though she had never even been pregnant. They hadn't told anyone else about the baby yet, in case a situation such as the one they had found themselves in was to occur, and Karen was still a month or so away from showing. There were no visible signs that their child had even existed, and now it didn't. And in some ways, Jack was relieved.

For the next four days, Karen stayed in bed. Jack was by her side some of the time, when she felt like allowing him to sleep next to her. Purely out of anger over her circumstance, she couldn't help feeling some resentment towards him. He was the one that had gotten them into this situation, after all. But she was almost more upset at the fact that he didn't seem nearly as upset by this as she was.

Day after day, night after night, Karen locked herself into the master suite, shutting out the sunlight and refusing food. She found solace in the liquor cabinet next to her bed, easily making up for the martinis she had missed out on the past few weeks when she was pregnant. She didn't speak to Will or Grace, barely looked at Rosario, and only let Jack into the bedroom because she couldn't resist his sparkling blue eyes as he pouted at her, begging entrance so that he could be sure she wasn't suffering completely alone. But it wasn't enough.

On her sixth day of seclusion, Jack was reading a magazine while sitting on the bed next to Karen as she drifted in and out of sleep. She didn't look up when there was a knock at the door, but Jack rushed over to answer it. She couldn't see them, but Karen heard Jack and Rosario speaking in hushed voices.

"What is he doing here?" she heard Jack ask. Rosario mumbled something in response.

"No, I can't see him right now, I'm with Karen," Jack hissed. Karen lay perfectly still.

"Just tell him I'll call him later."

Karen heard the door close and felt Jack slide back into the bed next to her. She debated pretending to be asleep, but couldn't contain these feelings any more.

"Are you seeing someone?" she asked, sitting up to face him.

"What?" he looked caught off guard. "I thought you were sleeping."

"Well, I'm not. Are you seeing someone?" she repeated, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I…It…That's not important," he stammered, finding her hand and taking it in his own.

"Yes - it is," she told him, slapping his hand away. "How can you be with someone already? It's been _five days_ since we lost our _baby, _Jack! And you're already out running around with God-knows-who!" Her voice was raised now, her frustration growing as the words spilled out. "Aren't you upset at _all?_"

"Of course I am."

"Well you sure aren't acting like it!"

Now Jack was steamed, too. Maybe it was because he couldn't possibly know what it was like to have a child growing inside of him, or to have the one thing he wanted more than anything else in his life to die inside of him, or maybe it was because he already had a son - but for whatever reason, he just _couldn't_ understand what Karen was going through, as hard as he tried to empathize. But he certainly didn't feel that he should be punished for that.

"Karen! Aren't I allowed to keep on living, even though you refuse to? It's not like we're married."

"I know that," she snapped at him, perhaps a little too bitterly. They glared at each other for a moment before Karen had a sharp, low intake of breath and her eyes opened with realization. "This started _before_ we lost the baby, didn't it? You were already seeing this guy!"

Jack frowned, but didn't deny it.

"This is not my fault, Karen, and I'm upset too. Don't you realize that I was going to give everything up for _you_?"

His voice was soft now, but intense. A rage building beneath the surface unlike Karen had ever experienced from him before.

"I never asked you to."

"Then what the hell do you want from me?"

"I want you to get out," Karen whispered, snapping her head away from him as tears threatened to fall. He didn't move, frozen to the spot. "Get out," she repeated, looking back towards him. This time her voice was strong and solid, a conviction in her eyes that went straight to his heart. He could go have his fun with his latest boy toy, while she laid there in her bed for as long as she wanted to, grieving for the loss of her last chance.

As far as she was concerned, their strongest tie had been severed.


	25. Worth It

**1988**

The bass of the dance music thumped loud against Karen's eardrums, and she felt each pulse in her chest, coursing through her body. Leaned back on her hands, she dangled her legs off of the table and tossed her head back as she pressed the toe of her six-inch platform stilettos against the chest of the horny businessman seated in front of her.

She watched as his eyes grew wide as she gyrated in front of him, wiped the sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand. Karen smiled at him under the dirty pink and purple spotlights that were mechanically scanning the room. She was putting on a real show tonight, for this fancy, rich bastard who was grinning up at her like an idiot while she pulled herself down onto his lap.

Karen swiveled her hips against the guy's knees as he loosened his tie and hungrily eyed her breasts, which were spilling out of her iridescent purple leotard. Karen ran her hands up her sides and drew them up her neck through her hair, pulling her long brown tresses to the top of her head. Three feet to her right, one of the other dancers was mimicking her motions with her own client. As Karen brought her hands down and massaged her breasts, the other dancer, a blonde a few years younger than Karen, did the same.

Karen didn't like what she did to make money, but she couldn't deny that she was good at it. She had learned at a young age that she could use her sexuality to exert a type of power over people, especially men. And she had used this power for the majority of her teenaged and adult life to not only gets what she wanted, but also to support herself.

When she married her first husband, she had thought that her days of dancing in gentlemen's clubs like this one were over. And even after he left her and she had found Stan to support her, it still wasn't enough. She wanted to be sure that this time, she was prepared for life on her own when her man left her. After all, it was only a matter of time until Stan didn't show up to their hotel suite one night. He was a married man, and she hardly expected him to leave his wife and kids for her.

And so, she had found a club in Manhattan just down the street from the apartment Stan had set her up in and had been dancing there, night after night, for three years. After the club closed at 2 a.m., she would hurry back to her apartment to wait for Stan and they would make love for an hour or two before he had to leave and sneak back into his manse across town. It wasn't much of a life, but it was _her_ life, and she had to deal with it in whatever way she could.

Karen bit her lip seductively and stared down at the man beneath her, running her hands along his chest. She whipped her head around, throwing her hair over her left shoulder as she stroked the cotton of his white button up shirt. This was getting to be too much for him to handle, and suddenly his hands were gripping her waist, then massaging her ass.

"Hey! No touching," Karen grumbled, slapping the man's hands away from her body. He retracted his hands instantly, but his eyes became dark and ferocious.

"Whaddya mean, no touching?" he asked, his New Jersey accent thick with contempt. "I'm paying you good money."

Seeing his distress, Karen backed off of him quickly, drawing the attention of the club owner who rushed to her side.

"Hey, buddy," the owner warned, throwing his large, rough hand out towards the man's chest as he stood angrily, "no touching the girls. That's our policy, it's posted right over there," he explained, gesturing toward a blue and white sign posted to the wall behind him, near the door.

"Well that's ridiculous!" the man yelled, kicking his chair over violently behind him.

"I think maybe you should leave."

"You gotta be kidding me!" the man exclaimed, grabbing his suit jacket from the back of his chair and glaring at Karen. He may have been a shlubby, red-faced cubicle worker, but Karen could tell he had a temper. She backed behind the club owner as she locked eyes with him. "And just so you know, sweetheart, you weren't worth it."

Karen and the owner watched him storm out of the club, and by now the rest of the dancers and their clients had stopped what they were doing and were watching too. Karen was embarrassed and shaken, but tried to smile as the door swung shut and the owner turned to face her and make sure she was alright.

"Why don't you take the rest of the night off, Anastasia," he told her, patting her arm gently. "It's almost closing time anyway."

She looked at the clock; 1:42. In less than an hour, she would be in Stan's arms in the comfort of her own bed, and she would've forgotten about this whole incident.

Karen tied her black trench coat around her tightly as she stepped out into the alley behind the club. Since she lived so close, she rarely bothered to bring a change of clothes with her to work, choosing instead to pull a long coat around her scantily-clad body and make the three blocks walk in her stilettos.

Safety wasn't normally a problem when Karen left the club. She was usually with at least three of the other girls and often times the owner, and they all walked together until she turned off at her building. But tonight, she had left earlier than all of the others, and she was actually frightened. It was probably just because of her client who had lost his temper, the malice boiling up behind his eyes like a tea kettle about to explode. She tried to tell herself that there was no real danger here - the night was young and there were still plenty of people around. And she was only one block away now. Still, she hugged her coat tighter around her and quickened her steps as the streetlight outside of her bedroom window drew nearer.

When she arrived at the door of her apartment - the third door on the left of the fourth floor - she stuck the key in the lock only to find that the door swung open under the weight of her touch. Her heartbeat quickened. Why was it already open? Could it be that her pissed off business man had come into her home, waiting for her return to do God-knows-what to her as a form of revenge?

She snuck into the kitchen quietly, holding her breath as she listened for any sign of movement. Preparing herself for a struggle, she slipped her keys between the fingers of her fist, the long part pointing out. She edged across the living room to the bedroom doorway, and slowly pushed open her bedroom door, peering around it cautiously.

"Oh my God," she exhaled, finding Stanley lounging across her bed, the dim side table light switched on next to him. He grinned up at her as he heard her enter. "I thought…" she laughed nervously, set her keys on the dresser. "Nevermind."

"Sorry, darling, I didn't mean to frighten you," Stan purred as he grabbed her arm and pulled her onto the bed next to him. "Cathy took the kids for a long weekend so I made it over a little earlier tonight."

"Mmm," she replied, his lips finding hers. His right hand gripped her breast under her trench coat.

"You seem kind of shaken up…is everything ok?" Stan asked, pulling away from her to allow her to remove her coat.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine," she told him, smiling slightly. "There was just some jackass at the club tonight."

"Karen, when are you going to quit that job? I told you I'll take care of you and you'll never have to work another day in your life."

Karen sighed.

"We've already been through this, sweetheart," she reminded him, removing her stilettos. "I need the independence." She paused as she stood from the bed and walked to her closet to remove her leotard and fishnets. She frowned; she may have been safe once again in the arms of her lover and the comfort of her own apartment, but the man's angry words were still echoing in her mind. "Stanley?"

"Yes?"

"Am I worth it?"

"Worth what, darling?"

Karen re-emerged from the closet, sporting nothing but one of Stan's undershirts, which was like a shorty nightie on her petite frame.

"Everything….everything you're risking to be with me."

Stretched across the bed on his stomach, Stan grabbed her waist as she walked by him en route to the dresser and pulled her back down onto the bed as she giggled.

"_You_," he began, tickling her side and kissing her neck, "are worth every penny spent and every second of sleep lost." Her soft giggles ceased as he kissed her mouth passionately. "But you _are _too good to be working at that strip club."

Karen took his face in her hand and looked at him with adoring eyes.

"Well, thank you. But until I can be sure that you're not going to stop showing up here every night, I can't lose my income."

"Karen Delaney Popeil, I promise you that I will marry you one day. And then," he slid his hand underneath the bottom seam of her night shirt, up her supple thigh, "you'll only ever have to work if you get bored with me."

He kissed her again and laid her back onto the soft sheets of the mattress.

"Oh I don't think that will _ever_ be a problem, honey."


	26. The Fear

Grace pulled the door closed behind her as she followed Will into the dark hospital room. The shades were drawn and the only light came from the moon shining through the slats and a small lamp in the back corner of the room, sitting on a table next to a tray of hospital food.

Karen was seated in a chair on wheels that was pulled up next to the head of the bed, both of her hands grasping one of Jack's as it lay next to his side. He was asleep, and her head was bowed as if in prayer, eyes closed. Will wondered if she was sleeping, too.

"Karen?" he whispered, leaning down next to her and placing a hand gently on her back. She looked up at him immediately as his voice brought her out of her thoughts. "We brought you some dinner. You don't have to eat it now but we thought you might want something later and the cafeteria is about to close."

She looked back at Jack before releasing his hand to take the carry out sack from Will and mouthing "thank you." He just smiled back and took the seat next to her, which he had been occupying all day, and Grace sat on the other side of the bed from them. Will picked up his book and Grace went back to watching reruns of some old sitcom on her cell phone. But Karen just took up Jack's hand again and watched him sleep; listening intently to the beeping of his heart monitor to make sure that every beat was just as steady as the one before it.

It was a lucky thing that Ben had been the doctor on call that day at the hospital when Jack had been rushed in. It appeared as though his body was having some kind of adverse reaction to the medication that Ben had given Karen, and had it been any other doctor that greeted them in the ER, Ben surely would have lost his job and Karen would've been in serious legal trouble. The drug was not available to the public yet, and they were still doing testing on it. Apparently spells such as the one Jack had been just a side effect, and it had taken this long for enough of the drug to build up in his system to have this kind of toxicity.

His ordeal had been mild, but it frightened all of them. Will and Grace were relieved to find Karen waiting for them in the atrium of the hospital, a smile on her face, with the news that Jack was fine. They were keeping him now for observation and to allow Ben time to run a few tests, the results of which would be used in the further development of the drug.

An hour later, Will looked up from his book and pulled his half-moon reading glasses off of his face. Grace was snoring in her chair across him from him, and Karen was also dozing, still holding Jack's hand loosely in her own, but slumped down in her chair with her head rolled to one side. He was about to go back to reading his book when he noticed Jack stir slightly, and his eyes flicker open.

"Hi," Will whispered, as Jack yawned and noticed the sleeping forms of Karen and Grace. He grinned at Will.

"Look at these old broads. Must be past their bedtime."

"Yeah," Will nodded, "but it is kind of late. Do you want us to leave?" he asked, gesturing towards the door. Jack shook his head.

"No, no. I'm glad you guys are here."

The two looked at each other for a moment, and suddenly an unexpected poignancy hit the air. When Will had first met Jack, he would've laughed in your face if you had told him that in almost 50 years they'd still be best friends, watching each other's lives come full circle. And now, he could barely remember that high school party where he had met the strange gay boy, his hair teased to the sky and his pants as tight as Madonna's leggings.

"How are you feeling?" Will asked him softly.

"Tired," Jack admitted. He frowned, and looked at Will as though he wanted to say something but wasn't sure that he should.

"What?"

Jack hesitated.

"I'm scared, Will."

It was an admission that Will was not expecting. They rarely spoke of it, but throughout this whole ordeal, Jack had been so strong. He was adamant about the fact that he didn't want anybody's life to change just because he was dying, not even his own. And now here he was, lying in a hospital bed surrounded by the three people who had loved him the most for almost all of his life, admitting his fear.

"Of death?"

Jack shrugged.

"Of the process. Of the pain…" Jack nodded towards Karen. "…of watching her suffer. For me." Will looked at Karen now, too, slumbering peacefully less than a foot next to him, blithely unaware of the serious conversation that was occurring right in front of her. It was probably better that way. It was at that moment that it hit Will just how much these two people meant to each other; that as he considered his own unavoidable demise, Jack's biggest worry was Karen's sorrow.

Will wasn't even sure he would have felt that way with Vince if it was him lying in that bed instead of Jack. This was heavy, and this was real. Maybe Grace was right; maybe they _were_ made for each other.

"I'm just…scared," Jack continued. "There, I said it. I'm scared."

"So am I, Jack," Will told him, patting his leg that was stretched out on the bed in front of Will. "But you're not alone. We're all here for you, and we all love you."

Jack couldn't respond, just pressed his lips together and bit the end of his tongue to keep his emotion from spilling out. He sighed, closed his eyes and leaned his head back against his pillow. Will put his glasses back on and picked up where he had left off with his book.

And as he teetered on the edge of sleep once again, Jack squeezed Karen's hand that had a grasp on his own, and he smiled when he felt the warm pressure of hers squeezing back.


	27. Under Any Other Circumstances

**2007**

Six months. In the grand scheme of life, it wasn't that long. But when you spent six months away from your best friend - and not just away from them, but completely _void_ of them - it feels like an eternity.

Karen never ran into Jack in Grace's office, and never called him on the phone. The dinners that the four of them had shared every week were long over, as Will and Grace were still not speaking. And so there was never any interplay between them; Karen would talk to Will and she would talk to Grace, but they wouldn't talk to each other, and she wouldn't speak to Jack.

But as time wore on, she began to miss him. And she saw what being without Will had done to Grace. She had turned cold, not altogether unhappy with her new life as a wife and a mother, but sometimes she seemed…absent, as though a part of her soul were missing. And in a way, it was.

Karen didn't want to get like that.

But she didn't know how to go back to Jack.

And so, she didn't.

He went through a revolving door of boyfriends, and for the first time in a couple of years he was wholly sexually satisfied. The one time he had made love to Karen hadn't been as bad as he had expected, but after that he was positive that nothing could ever be as good as sex with a man. He loved men, and they loved him. After the possibility of being the father to Karen's child had evaporated, he had felt a new liberation. Maybe it was a sign, he thought. It should've been obvious that he wasn't cut out for fatherhood, and no child deserved having parents who weren't in love - and he wasn't in love with Karen - so maybe this was nature's way of avoiding a miserable, unnecessary existence.

Yes, he felt at peace with what had happened. He had tried, but clearly it wasn't meant to be. At first when Karen had kicked him out of the manse and shut him out of her life, he was hurt and angry. But after a couple of weeks, it had dawned on him that maybe this was a new opportunity for him to shake his "hag" and finally find true love with a man he could spend the rest of his life with. He became spiteful towards her, falsely empowered to be rid of her. As he began dating again, he was feeling euphoric, like he was high on the drug of second chances.

But like all drugs, the feeling wore off.

And he missed her.

She haunted his dreams at night, filled his thoughts during the day. He missed her giggle and the smell of her expensive perfume. He missed the way she made him laugh and her contagious confidence. Sometimes, he would stand outside the gas station across the street from Grace's office, pretending to watch the taxis go by while really waiting for her to come out of the building. In his fantasy they would lock eyes, carelessly trek across the several traffic lanes that separated and run into each other's arms, crying their apologies and promising to never fight again.

But then he would remember the coldness in her eyes as she had ordered him out of her bedroom that day, how her arms were folded across her stomach, as though protecting her newly-emptied womb from him, like he had personally caused her miscarriage.

On a chilly early March evening, Karen entered Will and Jack's apartment building with her hands shaking slightly. She was going to Will's apartment to have dinner with him and Vince, and apparently they had some big news to tell her. She was excited to see them both after a rather lengthy hiatus, but also terrified that she would run into Jack. He did just live across the hall, after all.

To her horror, her fear was realized as the elevator doors dinged open on the ninth floor, to reveal Will leaned against the frame of the door to his apartment, laughing with a relaxed-looking Jack, his back to Karen as she stepped out of the elevator.

As soon as Will saw her, he froze, straightened his posture and cleared his throat. Jack fell silent too, and turned around to follow Will's gaze.

"Karen," Will greeted her, trying desperately to dissolve the awkwardness of the situation. But Karen could barely hear him as he welcomed her into his apartment, for her attention was completely captured by Jack.

She hadn't seen his face in months, only dreamt about it. And now that he was here again, in front of her, she wanted so badly to run to him and hold him in her arms, to have that familiarity back between them like nothing had ever changed. But things had changed, and she was faced with that reality as the two of them stared at each other, neither one of them knowing how to act.

"I'll see you later, Will," Jack finally mumbled before turning sharply on his heel and rushing into his apartment. Karen watched him intently, only turning back towards Will when Jack's apartment door clicked shut in front of them.

Will ushered her inside his apartment, rubbing her back gently as he walked behind her and led them to the couch. He was completely aware of the rift between her and Jack, and she was doing a poor job hiding her discomfort from what had just happened in the hall. Will knew at some point he would have to talk to her about it, but now was not the time. He had other things on his mind.

Karen sat down on the couch automatically and Will handed her a wine glass. She took a sip without thinking, grateful to have a prop to dispel the discomfort she was feeling.

"So what's this big announcement?" she asked, as Vince entered the living room from the hallway and kissed her cheek in greeting. He and Will shared an anxious glance, and Will couldn't stop himself from smiling.

"Well," he began, pausing to take Vince's hand, "you know how much I've always wanted kids…"

Karen felt her throat tighten. She had the sinking feeling that she knew what was coming next.

"We're going to have a baby!" Vince finished enthusiastically, unable to wait for Will to complete the thought himself.

"Wow!" Karen exclaimed, a bit too flat. She tried her best to look happy for them. Her fingernails dug into the glass of the wine glass in her hand, and her muscles itched to jump up from the couch and run as far away from this apartment as she could. Under any other circumstance, she would've been thrilled for her friends. But this timing was just awful, and she couldn't handle it.

Vince and Will watched her nervously, the smiles that were plastered on their faces beginning to droop as they realized that her delighted reaction had a sad and sinister undertone.

"That's….I….congratulations, guys," Karen choked out. She set her glass on the coffee table. "Could you excuse me…?"

She collapsed against the wall as soon as the door to the apartment had closed behind her. She pressed her palms against the smooth, solid surface behind her to assure herself that there was some stability in her life, even if it was only the wall beneath her flesh.

Her breaths were slow and controlled; she was trying hard not to cry, her eyes closed tightly to stop the tears from falling.

She jumped when she felt a hand on her arm, and opened her eyes slowly, preparing to explain to Will why she was in the hallway outside of his apartment having a panic attack after he had just given her the best news of his life.

But when she opened her eyes, it wasn't Will standing before her, it was Jack.


	28. The Drugs Don't Work

Although they had gotten Jack's medication under control, it was still taking an enormous toll on him; Karen saw it more and more every day. He was growing weaker, usually requiring the service of a wheelchair to get around. It was only in the penthouse that he would shakily and slowly walk the halls. He walked a lot at night, restless and unable to sleep. Karen was worried that he was going to fall some night in the dark, but he wouldn't be contained. It was like he was a prisoner in his own body.

Now, three weeks after Jack had been discharged from the hospital, Karen grimaced as she reached to turn out the light on her bedside table, the arthritis in her elbow sending a shooting pain through her arm. She settled back down onto her pillow, but sleep would not overtake her. An unsettling feeling had come over her, and although she knew it was probably just her imagination, she couldn't shake it.

Quietly she crept down the hall, gripping the handrail along the wall that had been installed for Jack so that she wouldn't stumble in the darkness of the house. When she reached Jack's door, it was closed but she could see a thin string of yellow light glowing at the bottom, indicating that he was still awake.

Karen raised her fist to knock on the door, but stopped it just centimeters from the wood when she heard a soft sob from inside the room. She frowned, listened harder, and heard it again.

"Jack?" she asked softly, pushing the door open slightly and peeking in. Jack was sitting up in his bed, his glasses off with his hands at his face, weeping into them. He didn't even look up when she said his name.

"Oh, Jackie," she cooed, closing the door behind her and swiftly moving to slip under the covers of the bed next to him. As soon as he felt her touch he shifted his weight and wrapped his arms around her, continuing to sob into her shoulder as she shushed him and rubbed his bony back. "What is it?"

"I'm so tired, Karen," he cried. "But I'm too scared to go to sleep."

"You're scared to sleep? What are you scared of?" Karen rubbed her hand through his hair. "Have you been having bad dreams?"

"No, no…" his breathing calmed and he sniffled before speaking again. "I'm scared that…that I won't wake up."

Now Karen felt her throat tightening and her eyes stinging as she digested his words. In nearly 15 years of fighting with this, first privately and then with her by his side, Jack had never displayed any indication of fear of death. And it had never been something that had seemed like a possibility until only recently, and Karen was suddenly hit hard with the seriousness of his situation. Unlike the other rough patches they had gone through or all the times she had taken care of him when he had been sick with the flu or a cold, he wasn't going to get better this time.

"I think we're all scared of that," she told him, her voice soothing and gentle. She pulled back and made him look her in her glistening eyes. "Nobody ever knows when it's their time, though. If you let yourself dwell on that, then the rest of your life will be nothing but fear and sorrow." She stroked his pale cheek with her thumb. "But Jack, I promise you that I will do everything in my power to make sure that you're happy and fulfilled. It doesn't matter how much money it will cost or how many nights I have to lie awake with you in this bed. I'm going to be right here with you."

He smiled weakly and she wiped a stray tear from his cheek.

"Am I really worth it?"

"Oh Poodle," she chuckled and tousled his hair. "You are worth every penny spent and every moment of sleep lost," she told him, repeating the same words Stan had told her all those years ago that had turned her life around.

Jack just smiled and leaned in to kiss her lips. When they broke apart, Karen lay down onto the pillows, and pulled Jack down with her. He nestled into the crook of her arm, resting his head on her chest and listening to her steady heart beat. He closed his eyes as he became comfortable, assured that she would be there with him - now and until the very end. _This must be true love,_ he thought.

"I don't know if I'm going to be able to make it to our wedding," he yawned apologetically. "I'm sorry."

Karen smiled sadly to herself and caressed his arm that was draped across her stomach. She swallowed as she looked up at the ceiling, not altogether surprised.

"I know, Jackie," she kissed the top of his head. "Don't worry about that. Just try and go to sleep."

"Ok," he mumbled, sleep finally overtaking him. "I love you."

Karen shut her eyes tightly. Every time he said those words, no matter their meaning, they went straight to her heart. If only he could mean them like he did in her dreams, after they would finish making love, and he would whisper them into her sweaty hair.

"I love you too," she whispered. But he was asleep, and she was left to be the insomniac for once, her mind running wild with thoughts of the past, the future, and the burning affection in her heart for the gray-haired, youthful soul that was wrapped in her arms.


	29. About Last Night

**2005**

"Ugh, it was awful; _revolting_," Jack told Will, making a face like he had just smelled old cheese.

"God," Will said in agreement, taking a sip of hot coffee from his purple mug, "I can imagine." He made a face. "Ew - no. I don't want to imagine that."

"I know! And the worst part is; technically she's still _married_ to Stan!" Jack watched as Will came around his kitchen counter to sit at the round table next to him.

"Well, what Karen does in her marriage is her business," Will chided. Jack rolled his eyes.

"Maybe that's true for _you_," Jack told him, "but I can't let her just throw everything away. God knows I've been trying to bust up her and Malcolm for weeks now."

"Well I'm sure you walking in on them having sex will ease the tension," Will replied sarcastically.

Jack nodded sadly and stirred his spoon in his cereal. Images from the awkward encounter of not even 12 hours ago flooded his mind. Jack had thrown open Karen's bedroom door, excited to go shopping and have the opportunity to talk to her about Stan without the interruption of her new boyfriend, Malcolm. He was supposed to be away on business, but when the door flew open, there was Malcolm, naked under a sheet, hovering over an also-nude Karen.

"Why do you care so much, anyway?" Will asked, noticing Jack's utter despair over Karen's adultery and her crumpling marriage to Stanley. "We all know that Karen does whatever the hell she wants. You've never been this controlling of her relationships before." He raised his mug to his face to take a drink.

Jack immediately became defensive and snapped back at him.

"Maybe because I'm in love with her, ok?"

Will choked on his coffee and quickly set his mug down to grab a napkin and wipe up his mess while he stared at Jack's face, which was still etched with rage, yet completely oblivious to the words that had just come out of his mouth. When Jack, confused by Will's reaction, realized what he had said, his face softened as confusion flooded him.

"I-I mean…because I love her," he corrected. "Like you love Grace. That's what I meant." Wasn't it? "I just don't want her to make a big mistake."

Will nodded slowly in understanding, but eyed Jack suspiciously.

Later that day, Jack paced his apartment thinking about everything that was happening. His mind was running wild with images of Karen moaning in pleasure beneath Malcolm last night, sound bytes of his conversation with Will that morning, and the vision of Karen in her wedding dress, ten years ago almost to the day, arm in arm with a beaming Stan.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't the vision of Karen in the throes of sexual ecstasy out of his mind. Her back arched, her brow wet with sweat, her perfect red lips parted seductively. God, she was sexy.

Suddenly Jack realized that his memory was turning him on in a big way. There was no doubt about it, he _wanted _Karen. His body was reacting to her sexuality in a way it had only one other time - the day Grace got married when he had kissed Karen in the hallway of the church and they had found themselves in each others' arms on the floor of the dressing room.

_What the hell? _He thought. His first reaction was to be repulsed by his reaction to thinking about Karen having sex, but he soon warmed up to the idea as he did the only thing he knew how to do. Throwing himself across his bed, he quickly undid his belt buckle and unzipped his jeans.

His hand moved up and down his shaft as he fantasized about Karen's raw sex appeal. He imagined running his hands over her bare breasts, relishing their softness and fullness under his fingers. With each pass of his fist, he visualized thrusting in and out of her, her flesh tight around him as they formed the closest bond two people can possible have. As he felt himself nearing orgasm, he bit his lip, pretending he was biting hers as he brought her to a mutual climax. In his mind, she cried out and shuddered beneath his weight, her eyes closed and her lips parted as she breathed his name over and over.

When he was finished, he let himself relax back onto the cush of the bed. He thought about the steady rise and fall of his chest as he recovered from his self-induced pleasure, but a small, nagging seedling of a thought had crept into his mind.

Sex with a woman had always only meant one thing to him: procreation. He had fathered Elliot by way of invitro fertilization, and had never had slept with a woman, she he naturally had not ever given thought to the creation of a life by natural means. But as he thought about Karen, and realized that making love to her would not be an altogether unpleasant thing, as he had always thought, he began to think that maybe also having a baby with Karen would not be an altogether unpleasant thing. It might be kind of romantic, actually. Not in the "true love" mushy gushy kind of way, of course, but in the way that two people who have a great affection for each other and bring a child into the world together would be.

Yes, should Karen ever want a child, he should be the one to give it to her. His mind was made up.

Not that he was sure that ever be an issue. She had been pregnant once - he remembered the horrible sounds of her sobbing and pleading with Will to keep her miscarriage a secret from Jack - but she had never spoken of it to him and never indicated a desire for a baby ever since. Even still, Malcolm would be out of the picture soon, and he knew Stan didn't want any more kids, so Jack felt that the task must fall to him.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at his door, and soon Karen was making her way through his front door. She plopped down onto the bed next to him, and neither of them spoke for a minute as Jack took her hand.

"Sorry," he told her, defeated. "About last night."

"Oh Poodle," she smiled, "_I'm_ sorry…that you had to see that."

Jack pretended to be disgusted as he wrapped her in a soft embrace and sniffed her hair, wanting really nothing more than to enact the scene he had walked in on the previous evening, but take Malcolm's place.

"Well," he told her, "just don't let it happen again."

"Mmmm," she snuggled into him. "Ok." She squeezed her arms around his fleetingly before sitting up. "Jackie?"

"Yeah?" she looked up at her and toyed with the decorative buttons on her sleeve.

"You were right," she admitted, biting her lip. "About Malcolm."

"I was?"

"Yes. We had a long talk last night after you left, and I think I need to end it." She broke their eye contact and look down at her hands. "I miss Stan, honey." Her voice was a whisper. "He's the only man who's ever truly loved me. I can't walk out on that."

Jack sat up so that he was at her level. A tiny voice somewhere in his mind was screaming that what she just said wasn't true, that he loved her too and he always had, but the voice wasn't loud enough yet for him to hear it. Instead, he said the only thing he could think of.

"Oh, Karen."


	30. Countdown

It had taken all of Jack's strength to get himself dressed that morning, even with Karen's assistance. She had brought him into the sitting room via his wheelchair, where he was now patiently awaiting the arrival of Ben, Laila, and their son, his namesake.

"It's weird, isn't it?" Jack asked suddenly, causing Karen to look up from the magazine she was flipping through.

"What is?" she replied, looking at him over the top of her reading glasses.

"Well, I mean…this baby - Jack," Jack began, only hesitating slightly to use his own name in reference to this new child, "he's like…like the kid Will and Grace would've had, in a way."

Karen uncrossed her legs on the royal purple loveseat and smoothed her skirt before re-crossing them, this time switching which leg was on top.

"Yeah, honey, I guess you're right," she agreed. She looked back down at her magazine. "I guess things that are meant to happen will always find a way of working out."

Jack nodded slowly in agreement, considering the significance of this statement in their own lives. Clearly he and Karen were _not_ meant to have a child as their friendly counterparts were, but apparently they were destined to be together, 'til death do them part. As he thought this a dark cloud settled over him, however fleetingly, as he had once again drudged up the whole wedding thing. Due to his failing health, he and Karen had decided to call off their nuptials, or at least postpone them until he was feeling better. Unfortunately, this happening was seeming less and less likely as each day went by.

"Karen?"

She peered over her glasses again.

"Yeah?"

"Why didn't you want me to know about your first miscarriage?"

A gaping silence filled the air between them as Karen froze, closed her eyes slowly, then sighed. When she opened her eyes again, she didn't look at him, but focused all of her attention on the magazine in her hands, which she closed and set on the cushion next to her.

"How did you know about that?"

"I was there."

"No you weren't," she swept her glasses off of her face and leaned forward as she uncrossed her legs, her eyebrows pulled tight. "Did Will tell you?" She wouldn't have been surprised if he had let her secret slip to Jack, after all, he _had_ had three decades for it to slip.

"No, he didn't have to," Jack answered. Karen cocked her head in confusion. "I was coming in to Grace's office and when I heard what was going on, I hid in the custodian's closet." Karen bit her lip and looked down at her hands. "I heard you tell Will not to tell me, and I want to know why."

"I don't know, Jack."

"That's like, the _only_ secret you've ever kept from me. Why?"

"_I don't know._" Karen stood now, hurrying over to the window to fuss with the curtains as she became more and more uncomfortable with the conversation they were having.

"I kind of understand why you didn't want to tell me then," Jack continued, as he ruefully watched Karen avoid his gaze and his question. "But why, after _thirty years_ is it still a secret?" He paused as she untied and re-tied the golden cord of the window dressing.

"Jack…"

"Why didn't you even tell me after the second time?"

At this, she turned sharply, flashing him a look of ice. They hadn't really spoken of the loss of _their_ baby since the fight they had over it that had driven them apart for months had been resolved, all of those years ago. Karen hardly felt that now, minutes before their guests were supposed to arrive, was the time to bring it up.

"I don't understand why you want to talk about this now," she dodged, crossing back towards him to turn on the lamp that was sitting on the little table next to where he sat in his wheelchair.

"_Because_, Karen," he answered, his voice rising steadily. She paused next to him, looking down on him like a school teacher might regard an ill-behaved student sitting in their desk.

"Oh, good answer," she responded sarcastically. She turned to leave the room.

"_Karen!_" He grabbed her arm tightly, and she writhed beneath his grip in attempt to break free.

"It's ancient history," she explained, her heart beating loudly in her chest as her voice rose to match his irritated volume. "Can't we talk about it later?" she ventured, seeing the look in his eyes, still unsatisfied. She turned away from him again, wanting desperately to make it to the door before he asked another question she didn't want to answer.

"No," he grunted through his teeth, as he desperately clutched at her with both of his hands now, the force of her striding away pulling him up out of his wheelchair. He struggled to gain his footing as she continued to move away from him, unaware that he was now teetering on his weak legs behind her, grasping for the edge of the table. "Karen!"

She turned abruptly, angry now at his relentlessness, just in time to see his knees buckle beneath him, a look of shock and helplessness flashing across his face as he reached for her.

Karen cried out in surprise as she dove towards him, hoping to stop his inevitable course towards the hard floor. She threw herself beneath him and fell to one knee and he hit her hard, knocking her the rest of the way to the ground. A sharp grunt escaped her as the weight of his body on hers knocked the wind out of her, but she was relieved that it was she who had taken the brunt of his fall.

"Look what you did now," Jack muttered bitterly. She took a moment to let the air come back into her lungs before she spoke.

"How is this my fault?" she asked, giving in to their situation and letting her muscles relax against the cold floor as she stared at the ceiling. She felt Jack pull himself across her and roll onto his back next to her. He sighed.

"If you would've just answered my question…"

"Why are you suddenly so interested in something that happened so long ago? God, I haven't even thought about that in years."

Jack knew this was a lie, supremely aware that Karen's failure to become a mother was something that haunted her everyday of her life.

"Because I don't want us to have any more secrets."

"Well that was the only one I had, honey, and apparently it wasn't as secret as I thought. But do we have to talk about it _now?"_

"Yes, we do," his voice was indignant, as though this was an obvious truth that he couldn't believe Karen was denying.

"Why?"

He found her hand next to his, resting on the rug beneath them, and squeezed it tightly.

"Because we don't have that much time left."

Karen licked her lips and squeezed his hand back in response, but didn't look at him. He had seen enough tears of hers lately, and he didn't need to see her eyes sparkling with them now, so easily conjured up at even the slightest mention of the fact that his time on this earth was ending.

"Jack…"

"No, Karen, I mean it. I know we like to pretend that I'm going to be fine, but we both know I'm not. You're like a wife to me, Karen - you're my absolute best friend and I don't want anything between us to be unresolved before I die."

"Ok," Karen consented, using the edge of the side table next to her to pull herself to a seated position. She extended a hand to Jack. "As soon as Ben and Laila leave, I'll tell you everything." He took her hand and smiled at her as she pulled him up next to her.

Jack looked around, for the first time taking stock of the fact that they just had their first argument in 20 years, and that it had taken place on the floor, because both of them were too old and tired to keep themselves upright. Karen looked around too, as if knowing exactly what he was thinking, and almost in unison, they both burst out laughing.

They continued giggling as Karen struggled to help Jack up and back into his wheelchair; it was like a senior citizen slapstick routine.

"Everything OK in here?" Ben asked, poking his head inside the doorway and rapping his fist a few times on the wood framing. Karen and Jack giggled some more and waved him inside, Laila trailing behind him with a little blue bundle in her arms.

"Everything's great," Jack answered him, smiling broadly as he reached for the baby.


	31. She Had Asked Too Much

**2007**

Karen looked up at him quickly, then back down at his hand that was resting on her arm, then at his face again. Jack had to stifle a smile at her incomprehension. For a moment, her face was soft and remorseful, but then just as quickly turned back to ice as she pulled out of his grasp and backed toward the door to Will's apartment.

She pressed her back against it, then froze as Jack regarded her cautiously, as though he were approaching a wild animal and was waiting to see if it was going to try and attack.

"Sorry, I….I just….reflex," Jack stumbled through his explanation. And it was the truth - it _was_ a reflexive thing for him to come to Karen's aid when she was distressed. He had heard her sob through the door to his apartment and without thinking, had rushed out into the hallway to comfort her. It was only then, when she looked at him with utter confusion, did he remember that the last time he had tried to ease her sorrow, things hadn't gone so well.

"It's alright," she whispered, snapping her head toward the floor and absent-mindedly running the insole of her right shoe up the inside of her left calf. They stood there in awkward silence for another minute before Jack took a step back.

"I should -" he gestured behind him, towards his apartment door, " - sorry."

Karen didn't say anything as he scurried back into his apartment, but felt her breath release as she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. She shook her head and gave a bitter laugh; she almost didn't even remember what they were fighting about anymore. She had forgiven him in her heart long ago, but since they had established this normalcy of avoidance, she hadn't the courage to apologize to his face. And truth be told, she hadn't wanted to. She didn't like apologizing.

But now, standing just feet away from where he was, and after sharing a moment with him for the first time in half a year, she was exasperated. More than anything, she just wanted this all to be done. She wanted things back how they were.

Will opened the door behind her, catching her gingerly as she lost the balance of her weight that had been resting against it.

"Karen," he told her as she turned around to face him and he closed the door behind her. "We need to talk about this."

"About what, honey?"

If he was going to play like he knew exactly what was going on between her and Jack and exactly how to fix it, then she was going to play like she hadn't the slightest clue what he was talking about. She looked off to the side and blew a piece of hair off of her face as he grabbed both of her hands and raised his eyebrows towards her, not amused.

"I know about the baby."

Karen frowned and nodded slowly. She caught Vince's eye from across the kitchen, and whatever was written on her face was enough to send him scrambling into the next room to allow her and Will their privacy.

"You didn't think Jack would keep something like that from me?"

Karen blinked and look back at Will as though she had forgotten that he was there, despite the fact that he was clutching her small hands in his and gently tugging on them, trying to lead her to the couch to sit down with him.

"You kept the first one from him," she retorted, her voice short and bitter. She raised an eyebrow at him, silently asking him to confirm that fact. When he gave her a slight nod, bobbing his head up and down slowly, she allowed herself to be taken to the couch.

"I know it may have seemed unfair," Will cleared his throat as they sat, "for him to have been…involved…with someone while you were going through all of that." Karen gave an embittered chuckle. Yes, it _was_ unfair. "But Karen, he just didn't understand what he would have to give up to make you happy. And he wasn't thinking about what he did outside of your world with him would affect you. He was giving you what he could. You can't expect more than that from him." At this point Will paused, and grabbed Karen's chin between his thumb and index finger to turn her face towards his. "You just _can't._"

Karen knew what he was saying to her, in so many words. She knew that Will had been silently observing and analyzing her relationship with Jack for years now, and she knew it must've been obvious to someone as observant and invested as he that she was completely in love with Jack. And while Will would never attack her pride by dragging that fact out in the open, he would come dangerously close. His words now, implying that she couldn't expect anything more from Jack than friendship, couldn't wait any longer for him to fall in love with her, cut into her like a machete.

They hurt so badly, she realized, because they were true.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The leather soles of her heels thumped silently against the hardwood floor. When she reached the dark blue sofa, she let her purse drop from her shoulder and rest against the cushions, piling her long coat on top. In the dark, she continued on to the door of the bedroom. Pausing just outside of it, she slipped out of her shoes and pushed them neatly against the wall.

She held her breath as she turned the handle to Jack's bedroom door, slow enough that the sound of the latch mechanism opening would barely make a sound. The room was so small that she only had to take two steps until she reached the bed, where she could see Jack's sleeping form. He was curled up on his side, the top of the blanket covering him just gracing his shoulders, his body rising and falling with each steady breath.

Karen pulled up the blanket on the side of the bed closest to her, the empty side, and slid underneath the cover. She let her eyes fall shut as she snuggled against Jack's warm and shirtless back, not wanting to touch him in any other way than to let her forehead come to rest against the curvature of his spine. As her skin made contact with his, Jack's eyes opened, and he sighed as he reached behind him to pull her arm across his waist.

She smiled and let him, and instantly squeezed him tightly. They lay like that for several minutes before he spoke.

"I'm sorry," was all he whispered. Karen shook her head softly against his back.

"No, I'm sorry," she replied. He frowned, and without him having to voice his question of "why?" she answered it. "I shouldn't have expected so much from you. What you did for me…was the most generous thing anyone has ever done for me, and that should've been enough." She paused as she collected her thoughts. Jack remained still. "You mean the world to me, Jackie…but I know you have limits. I won't try and force you past them anymore."

She scooted her body up and burrowed her face into the crook of his neck after planting a soft kiss behind his ear. Neither of them spoke as her words sank in, filling the gaps between their bodies and enveloping them in a kind of bittersweet acceptance. And now, finally forgiven and back in each others' arms, they let themselves fall into the deepest and most peaceful of slumbers that either of them had experienced in six months.


	32. 5:14 am

Will was the first to get a call on that cold, bleak winter morning. He was leaned against the door that led to the balcony on his apartment, his arms wrapped around his sweater-clad torso, forehead pressed to the glass as he observed the grey sky.

He licked his lips as his fingertips danced lightly across the bulge of his biceps under the cashmere of his sweater, tracing each thread meticulously. But his mind was far away as he contemplated the city in front of him.

It was usually so busy and palpable - coursing with the lifeblood of the country, filled with the eager hopes and dreams of the next generation. It was rare that he saw people his age on the streets, much less living in high rise apartments in the young and trendy Upper West Side. He thought of Vince and his aching back, how he would grimace each night as he climbed into bed after a long day of work patrolling the streets or working on a case. He thought of his own frustrations with the young tenants of his building who would impatiently sigh when they were behind him on stairs and decided he was moving too slowly for their strides.

A stringy cloud passed in front of the already dim and hazy sun, and perhaps, Will thought, it was time to move on. Things were changing.

The phone rang behind him, but he didn't move. Vince was at work, so Will was alone in the apartment, but he had no intention of answering the phone. They didn't get phone calls very much anymore, and for a while now he had been dreading that ringing sound, afraid that it might be announcing the one call that he wasn't sure he could bear to get.

"Hi, you've reached Will and Vince," the machine picked up after a few more rings and Will shifted his weight, the glass of the door cold under his forehead. He watched it fog up and quickly de-fog under his nose with every breath he took. "We can't come to the phone right now; please leave a message and we'll call you back as soon as we can."

Karen's voice filled the empty apartment, shaking and fragile. Will closed his eyes, and the glass in front of his face clouded over in a hazy ellipse with his heavy sigh.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Laila handed baby Jack over to her mother. He giggled and snorted beneath her tickling fingers as she accepted him into her arms.

"Gramma," he babbled, and Grace laughed, nodding her head in encouragement.

"That's right, Jackie!" she cooed, kissing his rosy cheeks as he tried to pull at her hair. She shifted his weight onto her other hip and grunted. "You're getting big, aren't ya?"

"Big! Big brother!" Jack exclaimed. Laila and Grace both laughed.

"Yep," Grace affirmed, "you're going to be a big brother." Grace beamed at Laila as Jack nuzzled into the crook of her neck. Laila rubbed his back tenderly as she passed across the room to pull open the blinds in her parents' living room.

She squinted as the sun hit her eyes, illuminating the Brooklyn cityscape in front of her in a dizzying concrete pallor. She shook off a chill as she pictured her son running across a concrete playground, reaching desperately for some soft, natural plaything - a patch of grass, the branches of a climbing tree. But they weren't there - and they never would be. Did she really want her children to grow up in this concrete jungle?

Over her shoulder, the phone rang and she heard her father answer it in the other room. She turned back to regard her mother interacting with her grandson; her gently-lined face radiant and warm.

"Grace," Laila heard Leo's voice at the top of the stairs before she saw him appear. Grace looked up and watched him as he slowly descended, one hand covering the receiver of the cordless phone he was holding. Laila noticed right away the distress on his face, the look in his eyes. If she hadn't known any better, she would've called it hopelessness.

Grace turned towards Laila as Leo extended the phone to her, and Laila scooped Jack out of Grace's arms and into her own.

"It's Karen," Leo told Grace softly, as she reached a hand out to take the phone from him. Her face fell immediately.

"Is it…"

Leo nodded, and Laila didn't miss the sparkle of tears springing to her mother's eyes as she turned away from her family to accept the call.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been just like any other night. Karen had gone through her evening routine, and after donning her night gown and unpinning her hair, climbed into bed with Jack.

She cradled him in her arms and he rested his head against her breast. His hair was thin, and when Karen kissed his head she could feel his scalp on her lips. He shivered under the heavy blankets and scratched at sores that weren't actually there.

Every night Karen would take Jack in her arms and sing to him until he fell asleep. Tonight was no different, except that he just wouldn't fall asleep. Instead, he would fade in and out of consciousness; just when Karen was convinced that he had finally drifted off, he would shift in her arms and begin to babble incessantly about something that happened twenty years ago.

"Karen!" Jack called out to her at one point during the night. She had dozed off, sitting up with her back against the headboard, and she started at the sound of her name.

"I'm right here, Jack," she told him, cradling him closer to her body. She felt his frail body trembling in her arms.

"Oh Karen I'm so sorry," he sobbed, tears flowing freely from his eyes now. "I was so selfish."

"It's alright," she assured him, trying to comfort him despite the fact that she had no idea what he was talking about.

"I _do_ want you as my co-host," he sobbed into her shoulder. "You can play your guitar and everything just please don't be mad at me." At this point his weeping overtook him, and he struggled to find his breath as he wailed against the silk of her nightgown.

"Shhh," she told him. "It's OK Jack, it's OK. I forgive you."

It was the fourth of fifth time he had burst into a fit of hysterics over an argument or situation from decades past, and Karen was starting to become used to it. She had found that instead of trying to talk to him about whatever relic of their past that would arbitrarily spring to his mind, consoling him and assuring him of her forgiveness proved to be the best tactic to get him to calm down.

It still hurt, though, every time he would dig up something from their past - old parcels of pain and tarnished feelings that had been buried deep inside of them. These were things that hadn't crossed Karen's mind in years, and the memory of each one cut through her like a knife.

There was the loss of their baby in 2006, the fight over Jack's divorce from Rosario in 2000, the hurt he had felt when she told him they couldn't be friends anymore after she married Lyle Finster in 2004. And although he was delirious with fever and hallucinating each time he cried out in the dark of the night, his emotion was still a direct echo of what it had been all those years ago when these incidents were actually occurring.

After this last outburst, when Jack stopped crying and fell silent once again, Karen couldn't keep her mind from racing through every memory she possessed that Jack was completely tied up in. He had been so much a part of her life. And as she remembered, she wondered - where was the man with the big blue eyes and the childlike demeanor that she had fallen for all those years ago? As she ran her hands through his thin, silver hair, she remembered running them through it when it was thick and dark as they made love for the first and only time. Where was that man, the one that had been so full of vitality and energy? Who was this delirious, fragile body in her arms now? It couldn't be Jack - her Jackie - but of course, it was. She clutched him tighter to her breast and rocked him gently.

At 5:14 a.m., Jack McFarland took his last breath.

Karen wouldn't have even known that he had passed, except for the fact that she was holding him so tightly that the ceasing of movement in his chest was painfully obvious. Karen felt him take three shallow breaths, then after that last inhale - nothing. She waited and waited for his lungs to deflate, sinking him back closer towards her so that he could inhale once again, but it never happened.

Stillness filled the room as a sob escaped Karen. She shook him gently, calling his name over and over, but there was nothing within him any longer. He wasn't there anymore.

A wave of panic coursed through Karen as this realization hit her, and she gripped his lifeless body even harder, as though attempting to trap his soul within it. She shook as she sobbed, rocking back and forth and clutching him, a look on his face so serene that he could've been in the midst of a lovely dream. She closed her eyes and tried to picture his face the day they first met. It came to her quickly and clearly, as though it were only yesterday that they were bumping tummies in Grace's office.

"I love you, Jack" she whispered, kissing his cold cheek. "I love you."

She repeated it until her tears ran dry, until her arms hurt from grasping his body, and until the sun came up, casting a yellow/grey glow throughout the quiet room and illuminating the tear-soaked sheets they laid in.


	33. You Didn't Miss A Thing

**Five years earlier**

He tugged on her hand, the inertia of his body weight propelling her sleepy body forward slightly, and the crisp morning wind stung his cheeks. She was trailing behind him as he led her, taking her to the perfect spot he had located on the horizon.

"Are we there yet?" Karen's voice was slow and soft, lazily trying to emerge from a shell of sleep. Jack had all but carried her from the limo to the little walking path that they were on now, the little trail of sand through a thin forest that would take them to the beach.

"Almost." He turned and smiled at her, his alert state contrasting sharply with her drowsiness. He was wide awake, despite the fact that it was so early in the morning. And in the twilight of this new day, he was thinking and feeling a million things.

Their path opened up and they soon found themselves on an empty, pristine beach overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. The sky was still a luxurious dark blue but for the thin pink line resting gently along the top of the water. Jack released Karen's hand as he spread out the blanket he had with him on the sand and situated himself on it. Karen allowed him to pull her down so that she was sitting between his legs, resting her weight against his chest. She closed her eyes as his arms encircled her body, his warmth and solidity inviting her back into her state of REM.

Karen was resting peacefully in his arms, the top of her head laid just below his chin. He nuzzled his cheek into her soft hair, contemplating the waves in front of them. The water of the tide washed in every few seconds, coming within feet of their toes. Over and over again the thin layer of salt water approached, each time dragged back out to the sea from where it came. It was a constant and comforting phenomenon; and although it would occasionally be farther rather than near, it always came back towards them. Jack kissed the top of Karen's head, realizing that she was the constant in his life; although they had had rough times, she was always coming back to him. It was unavoidable that they would be together.

"Karen," Jack whispered into her hair. When he got no response from her, he continued, softly. "Karen. I want you to know something. I want you to know that I love you. I think you know it already, but that's not what I mean this time." The pink line on the horizon began slowly growing upward, with just the slightest hint of orange rising out of the sea. "I love you. I've always felt it, but I'm sure of it now. I could never say it out loud because it would change so much…and it would make things so complicated. I don't want things to change; everything is perfect the way it is. I want you to know that I love you but you _can't_ know that I love you…you would want too much from me - too much that I can't give you, as much as I would want to. And I know that you love me too, Kare. I know that when you say it to me every day, you mean so much more than what you think I take from it. But I know; I can see it in your eyes. For the past thirty years I've seen it in your eyes. And on some level, you have to know that I feel the same way." Karen stirred in Jack's arms, and he caught his breath for a moment - paused to make sure that she wasn't awake. "But if you ever knew that you were the reason I get up in the morning, the reason my heart keeps beating…then it would be that much harder for you when I go. I know we're fighting this as hard as we can, but we both have to face the fact that this illness is going to take my life, Kare. And it's not going to be pretty, and it's not how I want to leave you…" He pulled her closer in his arms and ran the inside of his leg along the length of hers. "…I wish I could say all this to you while you were awake. I want you to hear it, but I just can't let you." The orange below the pink in the sky was turning to yellow now, and Jack knew it wouldn't be long. "I couldn't go without telling you. Maybe, somewhere in the breeze of your dreams right now, you're hearing this. Maybe some random night after I'm gone, you'll hear my voice speaking these words to you and you'll wake up smiling, thinking of me." A seagull crowed and the darkness of the sky began to fade away more rapidly. "I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you." He kissed her hair. Then her cheek. And as she slowly awoke in his arms, her lips.

"Did I miss it?" she asked, in a daze of kisses and confusion. Jack took her chin in his hand and tilted her face out towards the water and the impending sunrise. The top of the sun was just starting to crest the water, making it dance and sparkle in front of them. Karen gasped at the beauty of the moment.

"No," he told her. "You didn't miss a thing."


	34. The First Kiss

The sun was slowly creeping above the horizon; inching its way farther and farther across the hardwood floor through the linen drapes. A cool yellow light bathed the room, and Karen's eyelids were heavy as she contemplated it. The rocking chair she sat in, once housed in the room she had picked to be the nursery for her baby that would never be, creaked beneath her weight with each pass of the wooden frame. From downstairs, she could hear the clatter of silverware as it struck against the tile of the floor - that clumsy new maid must've dropped the tray again.

Karen's hair was brilliant white, her face a beautiful portrait of a good, long life illustrated by deep-set lines in her milky white skin and just the slightest amount of droop beneath her eyes.

She straightened up in the rocking chair, just enough to see over the window ledge next to her. She looked down on the eastern edge of Central Park; so still and quiet at this time of morning. A fresh layer of dazzling snow lay undisturbed on the ground and the trees beneath her. It was winter once again, finally. The trees were dying, the grass was brown - it was a time of death. But yet, Karen couldn't help but smile at the undeniable, cold beauty of it. Death wasn't always an ugly thing.

The new maid bustled in, rapping quickly on the doorframe before sweeping across the room to place the silver tray across Karen's lap. She didn't say a word as she adjusted a mushroom-colored silk napkin on Karen's chest and arranged her silverware. She had learned quickly that Karen didn't want to talk to her, or to anyone. She just wanted to be left alone.

The maid bustled out of the room as soon as Karen was all set for her breakfast. The hot oatmeal and coffee stared up at her. And she just stared back, not daring to take a bite of any of it. With all the strength she could muster, Karen placed the tray on the table next to her. It was a great effort for such a frail old woman, but she did it.

As she gingerly pushed the tray as far away from her as she could manage, a figure in the doorway became visible in her peripheral vision. She panicked for a moment - knowing she would be in trouble if the maid caught her skipping breakfast again. And then she saw who it was.

His hair was as dark as the night, his crystal blues eyes shining magnificently. He wore pale colored garments, fitted but not tight - hugging his body just enough to display his young, strong body. Karen blinked and rubbed her eyes. It couldn't be…it just couldn't be…

"Karen," Jack spoke softly. He looked serene and calm, an undeniable joy radiating from within him. She couldn't believe it.

"Jack?"

It had been 23 years since he died. Twenty-three years since she held him in her arms or heard his giggle. She hadn't forgotten about him - that would never have been possible - but she had managed to get on with her life. And for years, 23 of them, it had just been Will and Grace and Karen. And then Will and Karen. And then just Karen. She had gone on - valiantly, confidently, but always lonely. Still lonely. Until this very moment.

"Hi." He didn't move from where he was standing in the corner.

"Jackie…" she sighed. She longed to touch him. "I missed you so much." The sun was all the way up now, its radiant beams hitting him squarely, illuminating him. He was so bright in the dark room, Karen almost had to squint to see his face.

"You missed me? But I've been with you every day."

Her mind couldn't make sense of the words. He didn't mind.

"Come here. I want to touch you."

Jack shook his head.

"I can't." He gracefully raised a hand, motioning for her to come nearer. "You have to come to me."

"But I'm so tired," she sighed. "I don't think I can make it. You have to come to me."

He shook his head again.

"You can do it." He opened his arms, begging her entrance into his embrace. "Trust me."

From down the hall, Karen could hear the maid at the bottom of the stairs, no doubt on her way up to make sure Karen was eating her oatmeal. This was her only chance. And so, she stood.

Her legs shook beneath her, and it took her a second to find her balance. When she did, she met Jack's eyes, and he smiled. Karen inched her way closer to him, shuffling, shuffling. Her nightgown hugged her legs as she propelled them forward. She could hear the maid coming up the stairs. But she was so close…

Jack was right in front of her when she felt herself falling. She tried to reach out and grasp something, anything, to get her balance, but it couldn't be helped. He was only a step or two away, and she cringed as she went down, anticipating the coming pain. She stared into his brilliant face for as long as she could before her eyes closed automatically and she awaited the arrival of the floor.

But then she opened her eyes, and she hadn't hit the floor at all, Jack must've caught her. She was looking at two pairs of arms - one had a firm grasp on the forearms of the other. They were both soft and smooth, wrinkle-free - youthful even. And then she realized - those were her arms that Jack was grasping so firmly. The sensations that followed hit her all at once; her body didn't ache anymore, and it felt as though an enormous weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. As she studied the lower half of her body, she realized that made sense, as she was once again as slender as she had been as a young woman. Tresses of long, chestnut hair draped her shoulders.

As she took this all in, one of Jack's soft hands made its way to her chin. His hand lingered on her jaw line, his thumb stroked her cheek. And then, ever so slowly, he tilted her face up towards his. When she raised her eyes to look into his, a flood of pure happiness, as thick as honey, surged through her. The dark room, the sunrise, the new maid - all of it was forgotten, and there was only him.

Her smile matched his as he pulled her toward him, wrapping his arms around her kneeling form. And as she rested her chin on his shoulder, relishing the feeling of his strong, warm arms, she saw that they were not alone. Several yards away, she could see Grace's bouncing red curls and Will's beautifully tanned skin. They were dancing. And then, just to the left of them but closer to her and Jack, was a little girl. She was maybe ten or eleven, with softly waved dark hair and striking blue eyes. When she saw that Karen was looking at her, she waved.

Before Karen could wave back, though, Jack had pulled away from her. He held her shoulders gently and stood them both up. She grabbed one of his hands in her own, and reached up to do what she had been longing to do for 23 years; she kissed him. His hands encircled her waist as he pulled her closer, and she wrapped her arms around his neck as he massaged her tongue with his. She was so happy she wanted to cry, but there were no tears in her eyes, and she couldn't imagine why she'd ever need them again.

His lips found her hair and he kissed the top of her head, then brought his mouth to her ear and whispered into it, his voice sending shivers down her spine.

"You don't have to miss me ever again."


End file.
